Propriety
by firegirl08
Summary: There were so many regulations in place in order to prevent this sort of thing. Sometimes propriety gets thrown out the window.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Enjoy!

* * *

Prologue

She was the first student to approach him that semester. She was not timid or shy, not intimidated by his reputation or his austere appearance, as so many other students had been. She strode confidently to the lectern as the remainder of the class flowed out the doors of the lecture hall, her long ponytail swishing back and forth. He was most surprised when she raised her hand in the _ta'al_, and spoke to him with deference, using his full title, rather than "professor" or another honorific. Far from disputing a grade, she had requested clarification on her mistakes, which had been far fewer than any of her fellows. She listened intently as he explained the differences of inflection between military Andorian and common Andorian, He nodded in approval as she pronounced the words she had confused, watching as her eyes lit up. She thanked him, and walked away. A small voice in the back of his mind said, "_Watch this one_."

Chapter 1- Rain

Spock entered the bar just as the first drops of rain spattered against the thirsty cement, sizzling almost imperceptibly as the moisture leached the heat from the radiating pavement. The inside of the big club was lit well enough that he located his coworkers easily, and he carefully made his way through the crowd of both faculty and students, doing his best to minimize contact with the people around him. He already regretted agreeing to join the communications department on their pre-semester outing, one he had managed to avoid for the last three years.

They all greeted him excitedly. McCreery had already indulged to the point of intoxication, though he was notoriously of a low tolerance. Johnson pulled out a chair for Spock, motioning him to sit. "Glad you could make it this year! It's about damn time!"

Spock lifted an eyebrow, taking the seat with a nod of thanks. "Pardon my tardiness, there was a problem with a scanner in my lab that required my attention."

His apology was waved off, and Atira Leas waved at a waitress to get her attention. "Can you get a drink for Commander Spock here? Anything he wants, as long as it has alcohol in it," she said over the music.

"What can I get for you, sir?" the waitress asked. Seeing his ill-concealed discomfort, she filled in for him, "Cardassian sunrise it is."

Spock looked incredulously at his drink when the waitress swooped back by with it. He tasted it, and it was acceptable. He listened to the conversation of his five colleagues with mild interest, too uncomfortable surrounded by so many people to devote his full attention. He commented when he judged appropriate, but was only partially engaged, planning for his opportunity to escape.

Then he saw her. At first he did not recognize the cadet, for he had only seen her in uniform, with her black hair pulled tightly back in a ponytail. Now, she wore it down, and it curled gently around her shoulders, floating as she spun on the dance floor. She wore a black dress that accented her figure without suffocating her, but left a bit to the imagination. She was laughing at the cadet who spun her again, bright eyes flashing. He attempted to reconcile the image of a free spirit before him with the straight-laced rising star of the academy. It was a difficult thing to accomplish, and he decided it would not be done unless he heard her speak.

"Spock, did you hear me?"

His attention was drawn back to the table, and he quickly apologized. "What was your question, Lieutenant?"

Selyer grinned in disbelief. "I don't think I have ever seen you distracted, Spock. I asked, what do you think of this year's crop of recruits? Have you looked them over yet?"

Spock shook his head. "Indeed, I have not, though I trust that they are adequate and will do as well as previous classes have."

"Always the logical one, trusting the system," Johnson commented. "Did you ever think that maybe the recruiters stop caring at some point?"

"Negative, Lieutenant Johnson. I have observed that no matter the individual components of each class, they average out to approximately the same level of performance, with a few notable exceptions, such as the second-year recruits. They seem to have among them unusual promise."

"High praise from the Vulcan!" shouted McCreery, lifting his beer in a sloshy toast. He nearly flipped his chair backward, but Johnson and Akinna saved him from tipping.

"Ok, you dirty Irishman, time to take you home," Akinna said. She cashed out both tabs and bade everyone farewell, lifting her husband's arm around her shoulders and supporting him gallantly. Salyer accompanied them out, wishing all a good night.

Leas and Spock were left alone, and Spock suddenly found himself in an uncomfortable situation. He knew Lt. Leas was attracted to him, but he had informed her he felt no such thing in return. She had continued to pursue him, however, and this was an inopportune moment. Leas leaned in towards him. "Don't worry, I won't bite."

"It would be illogical for me to assume that you would indeed bite me," Spock replied.

"Then dance with me, Spock, just one dance," she pleaded, batting her eyes at him. "It won't hurt a thing. One dance and I'll leave you alone."

Spock sighed quietly, then shook his head. "I apologize, Atira. I am afraid it would hurt something. To dance with you would mean prolonged contact, and I am certain that would be inadvisable for us to maintain a professional relationship. I would be unable to maintain my mental walls for that long uninterrupted, and to let those down would mean intrusion upon your mind. This would be in violation of more than one regulation."

Atira gazed blankly at him, showing only minor understanding. It was enough, though, to prevent her further pursuance. "Would you call me a transport?" She asked.

Spock saw that she made it safely to the door, in time to see the downpour begin. He advised the bartender of the weather conditions, and the bartender made an announcement advising people to find their way home before floods became problematic. As Spock exited the club, he saw her again, shielding herself with her short jacket. She was alone now, and appeared agitated over the rain. Spock did the only logical thing he could think to do.

"Cadet Uhura," he called. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and recognition, followed by embarrassment, flashed across her face.

"Commander Spock," she acknowledged. "I apologize, I can't really stand at attention."

"There is no need, I merely wanted to inquire as to your travel plans. You are alone, are you not?" he asked, moving close enough to shield her with his umbrella. He could now reconcile the dancer in the club with the eager student he was accustomed to see.

"Yes, sir. No room on the last transport to campus. It looks like I'm walking," Uhura said, smiling as best she could. She felt the rain soaking her to the bones, and was uncomfortably aware of her appearance. How did she look to the professor she admired?

"I will accompany you back to campus, then, cadet. There is little purpose in you walking back without proper protection from the elements and anything else that may be out tonight."

Uhura gazed up at him in shock, attempting to read the Vulcan professor's face for any sign of jest or scorn. "I won't refuse you, sir. I'm more of a wet rat than a woman right now."

"I do not understand your statement. You have remained the same species, though you have become quite waterlogged. Come, we will walk back to the campus now." Spock motioned for Uhura to walk with him, under the cover of his umbrella. They remained silent, not able to hear one another well over the torrential downpour.

Uhura had little trouble keeping up with Spock's quick pace. Her own quick, short steps counted nearly double to his own. Her high heels were not easy to walk in, but she made it look easy, even in the rain. She had dressed to the nines tonight, not expecting the weather's tempestuous fit. Folly had played its part in her lack of preparedness, but it had turned out better than she had thought it would. Who would have imagined her favorite professor would be walking her home? Nyota had never considered him in a social setting. It was unusual, to say the least. He was intriguing outside of his Starfleet fatigues, though professional to a fault. She had never heard of him embracing any sort of social scene. In fact, he was notoriously asocial.

Their communicators buzzed at the same time. The rain's simple pattering had dulled Nyota's senses, and the interruption was unexpected. She jumped, and then abashedly clasped her communicator at her hip. She flipped it open and read the transcription. By this time, they had reached the edge of the campus. "They've closed the bridge leading to cadet quarters," she said, as Spock was reading his own communicator.

"I see. It appears that you will need other lodgings. The only logical course of action would be to offer my own lodgings. You will stay with me tonight, Cadet Uhura." Of course it was only logical course. There were no other options for her, so it only made sense to provide her a place to stay. Surely there was no explanation needed for his sudden courtesy. Certainly it was out of the ordinary for him to fraternize with students, but, just this once…

She seemed surprised by his offer, but nodded all the same. "Thank you, sir. As soon as the flooding stops, I will return to my quarters."

Spock did not admit to himself that there was another way to the cadet quarters. It was impractical for Cadet Uhura to walk an additional mile without an umbrella or any other protection from the rain. "Very good, cadet. My quarters are this way," he said, motioning up the gently sloping hill towards the staff quarters. Several lights still glistened in the windows of the stately apartment building. Even with the rain, it glistened faintly, like a beacon in the dark.

Nyota was grateful to enter into the manufactured warmth of the apartment building. She looked around as Spock closed his umbrella, shaking the rain from it. It was smaller than the cadet quarters, but with a much more permanent feel. Of course, that made sense. Students moved through the dormitory every four years, but the professors were mostly permanent fixtures, unless given a post on a starship. It had a homey feel to it, with a small fire burning in a hearth to the left of the main entrance, surrounded by comfortable couches and chairs, which stood empty at this late hour. They seemed more worn than those in the student quarters, as though more people paused to converse with one another, taking a moment from their busy day to reconnect with the life that pulsed around them. Spock showed Nyota to the lift, and they rose to the top floor of the building wordlessly.

Spock's apartment was sparsely furnished, with only standard-issue furniture and utilities. Somehow, Nyota was still surprised, though she did not know what she had expected. It was a simple, one-bedroom apartment, with a spacious kitchen and living area, complete with futon, chair, and desk. It was comfortable enough, clean, neat…very much Commander Spock. The space fit his personality, at least, what she knew of his personality. Nyota suddenly felt like she was invading a secret space.

"You may have my bedroom for the night," Spock said, motioning to the closed door at the far corner of the living room. "I will rest out here."

"Commander, I can't take your bed. You would sleep much better in it than I will, and I don't mind the couch," Nyota said quickly, feeling more uncomfortable. Spock shook his head once. "I do not need as much rest as a human. I do not always require true sleep, but rather, meditation. I assure you that you will not interfere with my sleep patterns."

Nyota let out a soft breath, hoping it did not seem like too much of a sigh of relief. She hated sleeping on futons. "If you insist. Um, you wouldn't happen…to have a spare toothbrush, would you, sir?"

She thought for a moment she saw the slightest upturn of his lips. "I do, and most likely anything else you require." He showed her the bathroom, pulled out a new toothbrush, and left her alone. She brushed her teeth aggressively, attempting to release the tension that had drawn her shoulders up toward her ears, and that held her jaw tight. Nyota was nervous, uncomfortable with the situation. She still felt as though she was intruding on a very private thing. Looking at herself critically in the mirror, she decided to wash away her makeup, and attempt to untangle her wet hair. Better to do so now than to wake up a mess the next day.

Spock had changed into sweats while Nyota had been in the bathroom. As she came out, she saw him sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the futon. He had a fire pot placed in front of him, and the scented smoke swirled in lazy coils toward the ceiling. It smelled magical and exotic to Nyota, like rich cooking spices mixed with a rich earthiness. She inhaled deeply, and felt some of the tension leave her body. Spock looked toward her, and nodded.

"Deltan incense," he stated simply. "I laid out some spare sleeping clothes for you in my bedroom. I assumed you did not want to sleep in your current attire. You are welcome to join me again once you have changed, if you wish, or go to sleep."

Nyota nodded, smiling at the out-of-character invitation, and walked into the bedroom. It looked a lot like the rest of the apartment, with one exception. It was bare of all ornamentation save one framed picture sitting on his bedside table. Nyota closed the door, and walked over to pick it up and examine it. The woman standing next to Spock was very pretty, once beautiful had age not taken its toll on her. She was enough years his senior for Nyota to assume the woman was his mother. She was dressed in traditional Vulcan garb, a long, heavy tunic and a scarf over her brown hair, and she was _smiling_. She was beaming with pride and joy, and her arm was around Spock's waist. She was human, not Vulcan. It was as clear as day on her face, even though her ears were hidden. Spock appeared very reluctant to be in the photo, his own hands clasped stoically before him, an odd look in his eyes. This was before his Commander title, probably before Starfleet. He too was dressed in Vulcan clothes, and they were standing in front of a low-slung house the color of a desert sunset. Nyota caught herself wondering what life on Vulcan had been like, then realized Spock was waiting on her out in the living room.

She turned and saw the clothes laid neatly on the bed. It was another set of sweats and a soft t-shirt. Nyota sighed in relief as she unclasped the fastenings on her dress, finally able to breathe in fully. The sweats were comfortable, but Nyota was not as drawn to the bed as she had expected. The draw was back toward the living room, where her professor sat with is meditation pot and a hidden history.

Spock admitted that he was pleased when Nyota came back into the living room. She looked more comfortable, and padded toward him on bare feet. There was still a stiffness to her shoulders, one that he attributed to the separation of rank between them. She lowered herself gracefully to the floor, crossing her legs to mirror his exactly. It was an unconscious action, but Spock caught it. It was only natural for a human to mimic the person they were with, he told himself. He knew it was a sign of empathy, a creature's way of showing it was no threat. Still, he could not help but notice her guard was dropping. She must have been exhausted.

He spoke first, after she had settled and peered shyly at him, as though she suddenly did not know what to say. "Do you find your quarters adequate?"

"Of course, Commander. More than adequate, for a night," Nyota replied. "I also…I saw the picture on your side table. Your mother?"

"Yes, it is. My mother, Amanda, married my father when he was ambassador to Earth. As I am sure you have guessed, I am half-Vulcan, half-human, though I have followed the Vulcan path my entire life." Spock lifted the lid on the fire pot, releasing a billow of smoke and the same glorious scent Nyota had inhaled earlier. It had gained a new depth, and smelled more exotic and mysterious than before. Scents she had never come across played on her olfactory nerves, and she closed her eyes again.

"She's beautiful," Nyota said with a smile. "Do you get to see them often? Your parents, I mean?"

Spock shook his head. "I have not been back to Vulcan in two years, since my rotation planetside. My mother calls on the holo every weekend, and my father generally sits in on the conversation, so I see them in that manner."

"That's too bad." She suddenly looked very sad, and Spock did not understand.

"I assure you it is adequate, though my mother has stated she would appreciate my attendance more often. However, my duty is to Starfleet, and to my students. She understands, but I often feel that she only says that for my benefit." He capped the pot again, stifling the smoke slightly. He had dimmed the lights slightly, and the pot glowed with the heat of the burning incense.

"It's never enough just to talk on a holo," Nyota said. She had a slightly perturbed look on her face, her lips pursed. "I miss my family every day, and the weekend communication is never enough. But I have a big family, maybe that's a difference."

"I do not think that is the only difference, but it is a component, I am sure," Spock agreed. He had sensed the girl's disapproval at his flippant dismissal of his family, and was confused and intrigued. "You have siblings, correct? Brothers?"

"Yes, three. And cousins, and cousins' cousins, and aunts and uncles. The list goes on for as long as you like. I was never alone growing up." Nyota felt nostalgic, and let herself ramble a bit, sharing more information than she usually let herself. "I'm the second to last. Two older brothers, both still in Cote d'Ivore, doing brilliant medical and biological sciences work. My younger brother is studying at Cambridge, on to do who knows what. Great things, probably. He's the brightest, out of all of us."

"That is quite a statement, given your own aptitude," Spock said, without any affectation. "You are more than capable, to imagine someone more astute is difficult. Perhaps your brother will pursue Starfleet as well."

Nyota laughed softly. "No, Brian won't. He doesn't like space travel. He doesn't like travel at all, in all honesty."

"That is a loss to us, then. We always need brilliant minds like yours."

Spock had surprised her again. He had complimented her before on her mastery of his course material, but never had he seen her as an asset to Starfleet. All she could mumble out was thank you, and looked down at her hands.

"Do not be so unnerved, Cadet Uhura. I have admired your performance, and have stated as much on my written assessments of you. I thought you knew. You are, after all, at the top of all of my classes, and many of your others. It is well-deserved praise." He wanted her to look up at him with those big brown eyes, and see his honesty. She seemed so intimidated by him, and he did not understand why. Spock had always treated her with the greatest respect and had given no reason for her to withdraw.

"I knew, it just…it's different to hear the words out of your own mouth. I'm not unnerved, per say, just…humbled. I did not realize my work meant so much."

"It is affirming to have a student that successfully grasps the material I present. In fact, I had meant to speak with you when classes resumed, but I see no reason to wait. I have submitted a request for an assistant in my office and labs, and you are currently the only student who meets my requirements. It will not be an easy position, but I believe you will perform well, if you feel that your schedule is not already too overwhelming. Are you opposed?" he asked.

"No! I mean, no, I am not opposed. I would like that a lot." Nyota smiled again. She was very expressive, but Spock found that did not bother him as it did with other people.

"Excellent. We will meet after classes begin to discuss your schedule and duties." No need to overwhelm the poor girl right now. He had gone through many assistants over the last two years, all unable to handle his high standards. Nyota began asking him questions, and he felt no reluctance to answer her. It was unusual for him to maintain polite conversation very long, but it came easy with her. She was inquisitive, and asked intelligent, reaching questions. Before either of them knew it, two hours had passed.

Nyota looked at her watch as she yawned. Exhaustion was finally creeping over her, winning out over her rare chance to converse with her elusive professor. It was already 03:30, though she observed Spock looked no more tired than he ever did. Surely Vulcans got tired, too. "I have to excuse myself, Commander. I'm about to fall asleep where I sit," she said. She stood up, bidding him a good night, and walked into his bedroom. What an unusual thought—_his _bedroom, where _she_ certainly should not be. Nyota was too tired to think about it, so she dismissed the thought, turned off the light, and fell into a comfortable sleep.

* * *

Her alarm woke her rudely at 05:30, and she groaned, rolling over onto her side and searching for her com unit. Nyota kept her eyes shut tight, praying for another ten minutes of sleep. Her hand came into contact with the picture on the bedside table, and her eyes snapped open. She sat up, disoriented, and scrambled under the pillow to finally silence the annoying chime of her com unit. It took several seconds of looking around for her to realize she was not in her own bed. This was her Commander's bed, his room, his picture. She hugged her knees to her chest, calming her thoughts and breathing deeply. She was wearing his sleeping clothes. They smelt clean, fresh, but unlike the laundry soap she knew was used for all of the Academy's linens. The sheets smelled different, too, like desert sand and _male_, an alien scent. It made her stomach flutter, and she quickly pushed the sheets away from her, shooting out of bed and banishing any such thoughts.

It was time for her to go. It was against protocol for a student to spend the night with a professor, even if the bridge had flooded the night before. _Silly girl, why did you agree to stay? You could have walked up campus to the other bridge and crossed._ She berated herself internally, shaking her head as she quickly slipped out of Spock's sweats and regulation t-shirt. She folded them and placed them back on the bed, pulling up the sheets and arranging them neatly. Her black dress had dried overnight, so she tugged it on and grabbed her shoes, deciding to leave them off until she was safely past the commander. She could wait until she reached her own dorm to worry about her needs.

The apartment was dark, except where dawn peeked through the kitchen windows. The bedroom door swooshed closed behind her, and even the normally quiet sound seemed overly loud within the quiet of the morning. Spock was stretched on the couch, lying on his back, his hands clasped over his stomach. His eyes were closed, his breathing quiet and even. He seemed to be asleep still, so Nyota tip-toed toward the door, palming it open and holding her breath until she stood in the hall alone. She slipped on her high heels and made for the student dorms, attempting to maintain as professional composure as possible. She saw no one, however, as she crossed the campus, to the bridge that had been overrun with water, and across the quad to the student dorms. It took less than ten minutes, and she prayed her roommate had yet to return to their quarters. The fewer people to witness and question, the less she felt she was doing the walk of shame.

Spock heard her wake, change, and leave, but forced himself to remain in a light sleep so as not to startle the cadet. She had tried so hard to be quiet; he could only assume she was eager to return to her own quarters. So he waited until she had exited the door to rouse himself and greet the dawn. He was a creature of habit, and he liked his patterns. He had remained asleep long enough to allow the cadet to leave, though normally he rose at 04:00. Though, he admitted to himself, the rest had been much needed. After a cup of tea, he decided to supplant his normal meditation with a run. When Spock entered the bedroom, her scent still clung to his sheets and the sleeping clothes she had neatly folded and placed on the bed. Sandalwood and jasmine, he thought, before dismissing the thought and pulling out his running clothes. The strange, niggling feeling at the back of his mind would rest once several miles of pavement were behind him.

It always happened when Cadet Uhura was present. It had been there, since their first meeting last year, an odd desire to be in her company, and learn more about her. It was a singular occurrence, for generally the most he ever desired from a student was a straight answer. Perhaps, because that is exactly what she gave him, he desired more. Her talent for phonology was unparalleled, and she was adaptive. She was approachable. That was the reason he wanted her as his assistant, he told himself. She was talented, more so than most of his students, both current and former. Cadet Uhura was leaps and bounds ahead of her class. She was also diplomatic, logical, friendly…surely that was enough.

He was five kilometers into his run before he realized he had spent the last twenty-two minutes justifying his choice of Cadet Uhura as his assistant to himself. It was illogical. She was the most qualified cadet for the position, so why was he questioning his motives? He attempted to dismiss further thoughts of her, and turned instead to the building of the Enterprise.

Construction had begun exactly 1.72 years prior, and was progressing too slowly for his liking. It was scheduled for completion in three years, in time for the commission of Cadet Uhura's class; however, they were already behind schedule, and he calculated a new completion date at 3.47 years. His entire purpose for returning to the academy was to oversee the completion of the _Enterprise_. Five years planetside, when he would much prefer serving on the _Nelson_ alongside Captain Pike. Though he had done this as a favor to his friend, and he enjoyed teaching, he missed serving as a Science Officer. There were always new things to be discovered, mapped out, and memorized. There were always new challenges. He felt academic life did not pose much challenge. The Kobayashi Moru was the one exception he had found. Granted, design of the _Enterprise _was proving to be challenging, simply because of the coordination required between so many departments. It would be the epitome of collaboration. Besides those two items, Spock could not recall another challenge he faced.

Spock began ticking off items that needed his attention for the day. It was a long list, in preparation for the coming semester and an upcoming inspection on the _Enterprise_. By the time he had completed his list and arranged a mental time-table, he had swung back around to the instructors' quarters, completing his 12 km circuit. He still felt cooler than he would like, but that was nothing new. Even with extreme exertion, the ambient temperature of San Francisco was cool enough that he hardly felt overheated. Compared to Vulcan, San Francisco's summer was a veritable late winter.

After sprinting up the four flights of stairs to his apartment, Spock stretched and decided to run through a _suss manh_ sequence to cool down. He found the Vulcan fighting style nearly as centering as meditation, and he felt refreshed as he stepped into his shower. He had avoided thought of Cadet Uhura for 22.35 minutes before he allowed her to re-enter into his considerations.

Gaila stumbled into their dorm room around 14:00 that day, looking exhausted but excited and happy. Nyota wondered how the Orion woman managed to pull it all off. She was probably the most exuberant person Nyota knew, other than perhaps her own mother, but Gaila always seemed to be full of excitement. It made her wonderful to be around, though a major distraction at inopportune times. The green girl hopped onto her bed and bounced there happily, gushing.

"Ny, he's wonderful! Oh, he was such a great dancer, and in bed, Ny," she broke into a rush of her homeplanet dialect, going into great detail about her exploits of the previous night.

Nyota held up a hand, shaking her head and laughing. "Gaila, I don't need to hear how Jori was in bed."

"Oh, not Jori, Ny! I mean, yes, he was a great dancer, but I would not have gone home with him. No, I went home with his friend, Chris. Ah, the things we did Ny!"Gaila rolled her eyes dramatically, running her hands up her own sides.

"Oh, the tall, blonde one? He was cute," Nyota said, acquiescing to something she knew she would have to listen to, no matter what.

"Yeah, the _gorgeous_ one. Eye was eyeing him all night, and he finally fell under my spell!" Gaila grinned wickedly. "Who did you go home with? Or did you come back here by yourself? I told you, you need to have fun before classes start up again."

"Well, I didn't make it back here. The bridge was closed by the time we made it back to campus, but I found a place."

"Who is we?" Gaila squealed. She always got too excited over this sort of thing.

"Um…well, Commander Spock kind of…walked me home." Nyota bit her lip, uncomfortable in what she was saying.

"WHAT? Commander Spock? As in Mr. Icy Pants? Walked you home? But I thought the bridge was closed? Did he walk you all the way to the top of campus?"

"No…I uh…I stayed with him. It was really the only option…" Her words were drowned out by Gaila shrieking in Orion. Her expletives went on for several minutes, for she was long winded and very creative. Eventually she quieted, breathed in deeply, and gave Nyota a pointed look. "Spill, Ny."

"All I did was stay with him! He slept on the couch, I slept in his bed. I left early this morning so as not to disturb him." Ny left out their long talk, and about her becoming his aid, thinking that would be news for Monday. Gaila continued to pester her for information. "What was his apartment like? Did you get him out of uniform? I didn't even see him at the bar!" She continued to gush for a while, and Nyota fended off her questions as best she could.

"Gaila, it was innocent! I couldn't get back to quarters, and he made the decision as my commanding officer. Anyone would have done it." Surely that was true. Had it been anyone else, the same would have applied.

"Please, Spock doesn't make it a point to take in every sad-looking cadet. I've always said he keeps a special eye one you, even if it is a cold, emotionless one. I told you!" Gaila cackled, rocking back and forth on her bed. "I'll bet you fifty credits you'll end up being his TA this semester, and another 50 that he's going to get all lovey-dovey on you and you'll get to see what's underneath that cold, hard, muscled façade." She said the last in a low purr, fluttering her eyelashes at her roommate.

"Well, I can't really make you that bet," Nyota replied incredulously, surprised Gaila would even suggest it. "He already asked me to be his TA. I'll take you up on the last half, though. He's Vulcan, Gaila, they're bonded when they're little. He probably already has some gorgeous Vulcan wife back home."

"Wife, schmife." Gaila waved dismissively. "She's not here, is she? It means nothing!"

"Gaila!" Nyota was scandalized. "That's not true. If he is married, then that's something to respect. I could never…"

"So you do want him?" Gaila wiggled her eyelids scandalously.

"That is not what I said. I simply meant that _anyone_ should respect boundaries. Especially since fraternization is strictly prohibited." There were rules and regulations outlining every single interaction that was and was not kosher between commanding officers and their subordinates.

"Of course, you would never break the rules." Gaila chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Vulcans are too…austere for me. He's insanely attractive, but he has to be _reactive_ for anything I do to work on him. Otherwise, _I_ might take advantage of your new position." Nyota glared at her until she saw that the Orion girl was joking.

"You, Gaila, are a terrible person," she said.

"Oh, I know! I'm still betting you at least hook up with him within the next two years. If it happens in the first year, you pay me double." Gaila liked to gamble, and she was always eager to up the stakes. "Ok, but if we don't hook up, which we never will, you pay me double at the end of two years. Then you'll have a deal."

"Done!"

* * *

More to follow soon!


	2. Chapter 2

I must say I was floored by the amount of positive feedback I received. Thanks guys! Also, I apologize for my tardiness with this chapter. Hopefully the next one will get hammered out a little quicker, especially since I won't be taking another trip anytime soon. But really, can you blame me for wanting to see my wonderful husband? Long distance relationships suck, to say the very least. I also apologize if this chapter seems to drag, it was important to set up for following chapters. Don't lose hope yet!

* * *

Chapter 2

Classes began without any pomp and circumstance the following Monday. Nyota found herself falling back into the routine easily. Her new duties as Commander Spock's assistant took up much of her time, but most of it was spent between the long-range sensor lab and his office. At first, he monitored her performance closely. Very soon he left her to her own devices, stating satisfaction with her abilities, enough to entrust her duties to her fully. Her tasks were challenging, but most difficult of all was interfacing between Commander Spock and his students. The number of students who fearlessly approached her, classmates and underclassmen who would not go near their austere instructor amazed her. They complained endlessly about what they saw as unfair, harsh grading. Most of them said things like "He expects too much, there's no way we can meet his expectations," or, "Why does everything have to be so perfect for him?"

After reviewing their assignments with them, most of them forgave their grade and continued with their lives, begrudgingly or otherwise. Their next assignment was better quality, and Uhura made sure to mark their improved grade with a commendation before she returned Spock's grading. He noticed one day, as he looked over her shoulder.

"Why do you make a point of commending these certain people on their marks? They are not proficient, though they have shown moderate improvement. Why do you feel it is necessary?" he asked in genuine interest.

Uhura brought up that particular student's past grades to demonstrate. "See how much Cadet Morris has improved? That in and of itself is commendable. Praising your students on improvement increases the chance they will continue to improve."

"It seems highly unlikely that mere praise alone would lead to improvement. I should like to see the result of this experiment of yours, Cadet Uhura." With that he had left her alone for a while, she in her corner of the office, he at his own desk. This was not an unusual Tuesday. They had started out the afternoon as usual, with perfunctory greetings and an immediate turn to their tasks. Very little conversation ever passed between them except what pertained to their work, but an easy companionship had formed between them. Nyota had come to appreciate the silence between them. At first, she had not known what to do with it, but after a short time, she had grown accustomed to it. Silence had been a rarity in her life, and it gave her the opportunity to introspect a little. It also gave her a chance to attune to the quiet hum of the building around her.

A shift at Spock's desk made her perk up, and she glanced over as he rose. "Cadet Uhura, it strikes me that you have not yet taken your allotted break. Would you be interested accompanying me to the canteen?"

Nyota had rarely taken her break, preferring to work through it. The invitation took her aback, but she smiled and nodded, setting aside her PADD. The campus canteen was only a five minute walk from the Sciences building. She had expected it to pass in silence, but almost immediately upon leaving the building, Spock began asking her questions.

"I thought upon your suggestion that noting satisfaction in a student's work would improve his or her performance. What do you base this supposition on?"

"Personal experience, sir. Most humans respond positively to praise. When I was growing up, my father would praise me when I did well, and that would make me want to achieve more." Nyota's eyes softened as she talked about her father. "He and mama did the same for all of my siblings, and look where all of us now! Brian in an Ivy League school, Ricar and Shipley both making a difference in the lives of so many people…Our parents are the entire reason we are who we are today."

"Fascinating. Who else has been influential in your success?" Spock had his hands clasped behind his back as they walked. He seemed genuinely interested, inquisitive. The idea that one's success was not only attributable to the individual seemed to be foreign to him.

Nyota thought hard, and Spock saw her worry her lip as she did. He had watched her do the same thing several times as she puzzled over linguistics problems. It intrigued him. "I think the most influential people besides my parents have been teachers. Not necessarily school teachers, but my mother worked with a particularly gifted linguist. She tutored me when she heard me attempting to speak Bajoran, without much success. She happened to be Vulcan, and she really piqued my interest in xenolinguistics."

"You had a Vulcan tutor? How was it a Vulcan linguist came into your mother's service?" By this time, they had reached the canteen and were standing in the short line.

"She was an attaché to a minor Vulcan ambassador who was stationed in London when Mama was a diplomat. She and my mother worked together quite a bit, and we became close with her. Yes please, I'll have the veggie juice and a snack bar please." Nyota swiped her credit chip, and Spock ordered his drink. They took their orders to a small back table and continued their conversation.

"What was your tutor's name?" Spock asked. He had steepled his fingers and was staring attentively at her.

"Staav'ik," she said. "She was wonderful. She taught me Vulcan, some Andorii, Bajoran, Orion, and Ferengi."

"Where did you obtain your comprehension of Rihannsu and Klingon?"

"That would be my father. He was stationed on a starbase in quadrant five for ten years, and his focus was military tactics." Afua Uhura was a large, imposing man who, at heart, was a giant teddy bear. He had been a helmsman on the _U.S.S._ _Galant_ for the majority of his tour, and had been elevated to first officer three years prior to his rotation planet-side to be with his family.

"Interesting. He has proven to be an adequate tutor, as your command of the languages is unparalleled by your peers."

The compliment made Nyota smile widely. She smiled often, and Spock had already logged six distinct meanings behind her smile. The one she gave him now was the same she had given when he had offered her the assistant position.

"Thank you, Commander. I'm sure my father would agree."

Spock continued to ask questions of her, which she happily answered. Before they knew it, an hour had already passed. Spock had ticked off the minutes begrudgingly as they went by, ignoring the half hour mark, and the forty-five minute mark, until he finally had to admit they needed to return to the office. "We should return to work, cadet. We have already been out twice the amount of time we are allotted for a break."

Nyota looked at her watch in surprise. "You're right, Commander, I don't know where he time went. This has been very pleasant, sir. Thank you for asking me to come with you."

Spock acknowledged her thanks with a nod and motioned toward the door. Their conversation continued to the communications building and up into Spock's office. They each settled into their own seats, and Nyota returned to her grading, still smiling. Spock admitted he was reluctant to return to his own task, but he did so, refocusing his mind. Another hour passed, with the usual minimum of conversation between them. When 1900 came, Nyota set aside her PADDs and rose, straightening her uniform as she did so. She smiled softly at the Commander, bidding him a good evening. "If you have anything else you need me to do, just send me a memo. I will see you tomorrow, Commander Spock."

With that, she walked out the door for the evening. Spock set aside his own PADD, on which he had been reviewing specifications for the _U.S.S. Enterprise_. He folded his hands, contemplating the empty chair and desk where Nyota's stack of PADDs sat neatly. His office always felt empty without her. Only five weeks had passed since the start of classes, and yet she had become such a fixture in his day-to-day activities that her absence left a noticeable hole. He filed the thought away, noting that he would discuss this strange emptiness with his mother on their weekly discourse. She would be able to clarify this foreign feeling. Spock had never experienced it before, so had no name for it.

Five minutes had been spent contemplating the strange feeling Cadet Uhura had left in the room, and that was five minutes he had not been attending to his duties. Spock returned his gaze to the PADD with the _Enterprise_'s specifications, flicking through them speedily, yet taking in every detail. Most of the data he was currently reviewing was of little overall significance in the function of the ship: crew quarter dimensions, recreation room placement, mess hall specifications. However, even these little details would affect the cohesiveness of the crew. Spock knew this from first-hand experience, having served on an outdated starship with cramped quarters and too few rec rooms for the non-Vulcan crew to release tension. As crewmembers tired of one another, quarrels became commonplace, and the ship became incredibly unpleasant. He found the specifications adequate, and moved on to much more technical work. Before long, however, he found part of his mind wandering aimlessly, drawing his attention away from laboratory stocking regulations.

A visit out to the dry-dock where the _Enterprise_ was being constructed was scheduled for the next week. As frustrating as the visits often proved, to Spock they were always satisfactory. Simply seeing the massive ship made him still inside for a moment. _Awe_, his lady mother called it; an overwhelming sense of admiration. While the ship's innards were still quite disorganized, he knew as construction progressed they would take on a streamlined, clean organization. Impulsively, he drew out the holo block containing the three-dimensional model of the ship, and activated it. There was no need, for he could visualize every level of the ship, but seeing the holo of its' future glory pleased him. _"Cadet Uhura would be pleased to see it again,"_ he thought. He decided to invite her on his next trip. It fell on a weekend, and Spock wondered mildly if she would actually drop her recreational plans to accompany him.

And now she was in his mind, at the very forefront. Their earlier conversation rolled through his thoughts. Her answers had intrigued him, and given him some insight into who she was. She had also given him insight into the psychology of human students. He vaguely remembered his mother telling him once, "It takes a village," when he had asked why his human cousins spent so much time flitting between houses in the neighborhood. The comment had seemed illogical at the time, but Uhura had clarified the concept. It takes many people outside the immediate family to nurture children, to encourage their success. It was even true on Vulcan, to a lesser extent. It followed logic, then, that if he were to praise his students on their competence, they would attempt to further succeed. He opened the files containing the most recently graded assignments, and noted the students who had showed the most improvement, as well as the student who had obtained the highest grade on the assignment. He read Uhura's comments, and saw that while praise was foremost, she also criticized their work, pointing out their weakness. It was not enough, then, for her to simply put, "Good work," or some such trivial comment. Spock thought for a moment, then added his own comments below Uhura's.

Several ideas came to his mind suddenly, and he tapped out a memo to Cadet Uhura. Only after he sent it did he realize it was in Vulcan.

* * *

Nyota had stopped over in the mess hall before going to her room. She met up with a group of her friends and ate with them, listening to the jokes and curses flying back and forth. She felt strangely withdrawn. It seemed empty because her mind was elsewhere, in an earlier conversation. Commander Spock's interest had been genuine; otherwise he would not have asked the questions he did. Vulcans rarely did polite conversation, and the depth of the questions he asked was beyond polite, though safely inoffensive. He seemed to be delving for psychological reasoning, perhaps merely related to her statement that humans responded well to praise. She felt something deeper than that, though. His line of questioning was directed solely towards her, as though he were trying to get to know her. It was unlikely, though. Yes, it was for psychological reasons then.

She realized she was playing with her fork rather than eating. Gaila bumped her elbow casually. "What's up, Ny? You seem distracted."

Nyota smiled brightly, and determinedly stabbed a piece of her pork chop and ate it. Swallowing, she said, "Just thinking about what I need to get done before tomorrow. I still have a lot to go through."

Gaila obviously did not believe her, but smirked anyway and teased her. "You study too much. And work too much. You were half an hour late to dinner, which mean you stayed with Commander Icy Pants that extra half hour. He's working you too hard!"

"I took a long break," she retorted, "so I needed to stay and finish the assignments I was grading for the first years. And don't call him that, it's disrespectful and could get you in trouble."

"A long break? You? You're such a liar, Nyota Uhura," Gaila laughed. She was airy and excitable on the outside, but inside she was cunning. Nyota could see it in her wickedly gleaming eyes that the Orion had already come up with her own story of how the long break had been spent, and planned to torture her for every detail when they got back to their dorm room.

Their other friends were laughing at the exchange, and joined in to tease Nyota good naturedly. The rest of dinner passed this way, until everyone drifted off to their own pursuits. After a while, only Gaila and Nyota were left at their table, Gaila waiting as Nyota forced several more mouthfuls of food down her throat. Gaila tapped the table impatiently. "C'mon, Ny. I you aren't going to eat everything then take it to go and let's go!"

Nyota put her fork down. "Fine, I'm ready. Let's go." She threw out the rest of her plate and the two women left the mess hall. Gaila practically skipped toward their shared abode, bubbling with unanswered questions. She knew better than to assail Nyota in public with such dangerous questions. They reached the dormitory in too short a time for Nyota, and she tried to duck away into their little study area. Before she was able to, however, Gaila grabbed her arm and shoved her onto the bed playfully.

"Spill."

"What?" Nyota shrugged, feigning innocence.

"You took a 'long break,' Nyota. Long breaks only mean one thing." Gaila looked at her significantly, one red eyebrow raised in an expectant grimace.

"Maybe in your world, Gaila. All a long break means in my world is exactly that." Nyota reached for her personal PADD, attempting to end the conversation. Gaila bounced onto the bed, smacking her friend's hand. "Uh uh. You hardly ever take a break. I know you too well for that. What did you do?"

Nyota sighed, knowing she only would make the situation worse if she stalled any longer. "Fine. Spock invited me to walk with him to the canteen. We talked, that was it."

"And what, pray tell, did Commander Ice Eyes want to know?"

"That's a new one. I don't know, he just wanted to talk about how praise might increase student performance. He wanted proof, so I told him how I grew up, and how much certain people influenced me. Commander Spock was really interested in it." Nyota continued to reach for her PADD, succeeding this time. Her email chimed, and she clicked it open.

"No," Gaila drawled, laying emphasis thick upon the single syllable. "He wanted to know about _you._"

Nyota shook her head skeptically. A memo flashed up on her screen, and it was in Vulcan. Gaila saw the language flash on the screen and giggled evilly. "See, told you. Is that a _Vulcan_ love letter?"

This drew a snort from her friend. "You could not be more wrong. It's a request to hold group tutoring sessions. The Commander says he thinks offering help in a group setting will help students feel more at ease. He's really taking my advice to heart."

"But it's in _Vulcan_," Gaila purred. "Which means he is into you, like it or not. It's only a matter of time, hon. And then you will be paying me 100 credits!" With that, Gaila got off the bed and moved to her side of the room, stripping off her uniform as she went.

Nyota turned back to the memo, rereading it. The communication interested her. It held more than she had expounded upon for Gaila. But why would he send it in Vulcan? Along with the request for tutoring sessions, he also submitted that his own presence would be beneficial, making him more available to her peers. He attested to a desire to be more approachable. Spock also listed off several other ideas that had struck him after she left the office. He concluded the memo with a short phrase in a language she did not recognize. It appeared to be a derivative of Vulcan, perhaps another dialect.

Glancing at her watch, Nyota realized it was already getting quite late, and she had her own work to attend. The curious phrase would have to wait until the morning.

* * *

Morning came too soon. The blaring alarm disrupted such peaceful dreams. Over to one side, a despondent groan echoed, rousing the alarm's owner guiltily. Nyota managed to silence her alarm only within a few moments of Gaila's pillow sailing over her head. The emerald-skinned Orion was not a morning person. For that matter, neither was Nyota, but regimented life had drilled early morning alertness into her, no matter how late she had been studying.

She lay wide-eyed on her back for a few moments before sighing and rolling out of bed. Tuned to the touch of feet, sensors from the floor fed into light panels on her side of the room, and her path was illuminated dimly. Nyota longed for a shower to wake her up, but knew it would be wasted prior to PT. Gaila was in a later class, so her early morning was unspoiled. Only Gaila knew how she had gotten out of the early block. Nyota had nearly every class with her roommate, as cadets with similar focuses were always grouped together. Somehow, Gaila had weaseled her way into the late afternoon PT block, so Nyota was abandoned to brave the dawn alone.

The training field was still covered in fog, white tendrils swirling lazily in the heavy morning air. Several cadets were already out, some running the field to warm up, others stretching. One young man had even fallen back to sleep on a nearby bench. Nyota jogged towards a group stretching. She recognized several Command cadets, but the friends she headed towards were Communications cadets. Greeting everyone tiredly, she plopped down next to a stocky xenolinguistic cadet named Turka. He nodded a good morning to her, his soft voice muffled more by the surrounding mist. The world sounded hollow because of the damp, and Nyota breathed the dawn air in deeply, letting the rain-fresh smell caress her senses.

Morning was beautiful.

"Uhura!" a cheerful voice greeted her. She groaned audibly, touching her forehead to her knees in both an attempt to avoid looking at the greeter and a long stretch.

"Don't sound so happy to see me," Jim Kirk said, settling down next to her. He mimicked her stretch with less enthusiasm, appreciating how she could fold her torso parallel with her legs. "You really need to work on your 'morning person' face."

"Leave me alone, Kirk," Uhura muttered.

"How do you get so flexible? I bet it's yoga, do you do yoga?" Kirk chattered.

"How do you get so annoying?" she shot back, glaring at him as she stood.

"Very carefully. But really, most people think I'm endearing. I think it's just you who thinks I'm annoying." Kirk liked morning. It gave him the chance to cajole Uhura, whom he had become rather fond of. He always made it a point to be overly cheerful, never knowing what reaction he might be able to provoke.

Their classmates had grown used to this morning exchange, and many of their friends listened and rolled their eyes. "Take a hint, Kirk," Turka said, grinning a little.

"Ah, Florence, my good man," Kirk said, turning his attention to the quiet linguist. "When are you going to request a date from our good cadet?"

Turka flushed a little. "Man, you know she's not interested."

"Guys, stop talking like I'm not here." Uhura was annoyed by the direction the conversation was taking. "Turka, I never knew you were interested."

The large cadet shrugged. "You're way out of my league. I wouldn't want to ruin our friendship anyway, you're too useful an asset." He winked as he said it, his tone turning teasing.

Uhura shoved him a little as she stood, and their class was called to order. The vigorous program for the morning prevented any further good-natured bantering. By the end of the hour, Command had broken away from Communications, and Uhura did not see Kirk again. She walked back to the dorms with other female linguists, talking with them about weekend plans. One girl gushed to her about Kirk, and Uhura rolled her eyes. "Be careful with that one. He'll fall in love with you in a night, and break your heart the next."

Jiqui, the other cadet, looked at her curiously. "But you've never dated him, how can you know that?"

"I know him, and I know half a dozen women he's been with in the last year. You can ask any of them what he's like, honey." In reality the number was closer to ten, but that sounded terrible, even in Nyota's mind. "He's no different than any other Starfleet officer candidate."

They had reached the inside doors. Jiqui and her roommate had the rooms next to Nyota's and Gaila's, and so the Orion girl caught the tail-end of the conversation when Nyota palmed the door open. "Is that Jiqui talking about Jim Kirk?" she squealed. She bounced half-naked out into the hallway. "He's handsome, isn't he? Can't you just see him being all dashing, like some 31st century Prince Charming?"

Nyota rolled her eyes at her roommate and abandoned the two in the hallway in favor of a shower. The sonic shower slicked the sweat and dirt away faster than water, and in as little as fifteen minutes, Nyota was again headed out the door, this time for the mess hall and class.

Advanced Phonology was her first class, and she knew Commander Spock would expect her a few minutes early to discuss the plan for the day. She walked into the Communications building as he came down the stairs from the offices above. He nodded to her, and she fell into step with him.

"Good morning Commander," she said formally.

"The same to you, Cadet Uhura. I trust you received my memo last night?" he verified.

She nodded in confirmation. "Your ideas are very good, Commander. I'm excited about the tutoring sessions. The group study sessions should be much more beneficial and one-on-one sessions I have been conducting."

"I thought those would please you," the Vulcan replied. They had reached the classroom, and Spock held open the door, motioning Uhura to precede him. "Were you able to translate the last phrase of the memo?"

"No, Commander, I was unable to. It's a language I have never seen before." Uhura dropped her bag next to a table near the podium.

"Nor will you come across it very often. It is not a dialect known by non-Vulcan people. I will most likely not be able to teach you the pronunciation, but I can teach you to read it and understand the spoken word. High Vulcan is a very difficult language, and I believe you have the language skills to become proficient in understanding it." Spock laid down his PADD and booted up the programs he needed on the podium console. "Translating that phrase will be one of your tasks today. I will direct you to the necessary resources when you come to my office this afternoon."

"Yes, sir. I look forward to it." Her eyes had lit up when he told her the phrase was High Vulcan, and she practically thrummed with energy. He had predicted this would be her reaction, as he had taken to challenging her with new languages. She thrived off knowledge, and watching her work intrigued him.

"I believe your normal time is still adequate," Spock said, keying up his presentation as he spoke. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. "I also would like to request your presence on my next inspection of the _Enterprise_. I believe your input may be beneficial."

The request nearly knocked Nyota off her feet. "You want _me_ to go with you to see the _Enterprise_? Yes! That would be amazing, sir."

"Cadet, it is illogical to agree to something when you do not know when the event will take place. You may have other conflicts," he chided her, almost gently.

"Commander, I would put aside anything to see the _Enterprise_ up close and personal again," Nyota insisted.

Spock raised an eyebrow, his attention fully turned to her now. "Very well. My inspection is scheduled for Saturday. I will send you the details this afternoon."

"Thank you, Commander." Nyota had dampened her reaction slightly, attempting to maintain better control of the excitement that hummed through her body. "This is an amazing opportunity."

"No thanks is necessary. As I said, your input may prove to be quite valuable."

By now, the rest of the class had filed in. Nyota grabbed her bad and moved to her normal seat, and pulled out her PADD. She sent a quick message to Gaila, and settled in. She couldn't wait to see the Orion's reaction to her latest news.

That night, Nyota dreamt of the _Enterprise._


	3. Chapter 3

****Howdy, folks. Thank you all for your patience. I just finished Chapter 3. Hopefully this will be enjoyable!

* * *

**Chapter 3-Night**

Nyota sat down to her first tutoring session. Six students had shown up so far, and were quietly talking amongst themselves. They all knew Nyota, at least by name, because she had contacted them directly to inform them of available sessions. She greeted them all individually as she pulled out her PADD. "Thank you for coming, guys," she said, dropping any thought of formality. They all relaxed easily, flicking through their own PADDs to pull up their study materials. "These sessions are meant to be under your control, but I want to make sure that you all are at ease enough to take as much help as you need. In order to do so, I would like to lay down some ground rules. There are no stupid questions. One person at a time may have the floor. Any answers will be given in a respectful manner. Are we good?"

All six agreed to the terms. "One more thing. Commander Spock may drop by from time to time. I doubt he'll be by tonight, but he would like to monitor our progress. He feels he hasn't had the opportunity in the past to get a lot of one-on-one time with his students, and we both think these sessions will be good for that."

With that, they started. Three of the students had never encountered non-Terran language before, so even the first-semester alien languages course had proven difficult. Their comprehension was poor, and their pronunciation was terrible. The other three had mastered several Terran languages, and one had a good grasp on Andorian. They drilled phonetics and roots in Andorian for an hour, and by the end of the session, Nyota was hopeful.

It was 21:00 when they wrapped up, and Commander Spock had not come by. Her students packed up and exited their study area. Nyota followed after typing up a summary of the session and sending it off in a memo to the commander. It was full dark when she left the Communications Building. The dark of the fall pressed in, wrapping itself like an old friend around her. She had never been afraid of the dark. Night was just a palette for the imagination, a time for dreams and creation. Nyota strode through the evening, glancing up at the blanket of lights. Soon, she would be up there, exploring the worlds orbiting each star. She thrilled slightly at the thought of her upcoming trip out to Kansas, to the dry dock of the _Enterprise. _Hopefully her tour would be aboard that magnificent ship. She could only aspire to be assigned to it, though she knew each new ship commissioned thirty percent of her crew from the graduating Academy class. _The _Enterprise _will be the flagship of the fleet, though,_ she thought. _That position must be earned._

She saw two figures walking ahead of her. Nyota was a good distance behind them, and she saw they were not walking together. It seemed as though the larger figure were intentionally trailing the smaller. She felt her gut wrench, and an instant later the large figure caught up with the smaller, and shoved it. A scream split the night. Nyota ran without thinking, sprinting towards the two figures.

The woman screamed again. Nyota was close enough now that she could hear the pair struggling. In half a moment, Nyota had thrown herself into the man holding the other woman down. The body check threw him off balance, and they both tumbled away. He leapt up, swinging angrily. He saw now he was up against a petite woman, and he laughed at her, spitting towards her. The other woman screamed again, and Nyota swung the bag that was still attached to her shoulder. The man grabbed for it, and Nyota yanked him towards herself. Her knee came up to connect with his stomach, and he doubled over in pain.

"Bitch," he wheezed, but Nyota was already backing away, reaching for the woman for whose sake she had intervened. Nyota grabbed her hand, and with the other hand flipped open her communicator.

"Emergency services, I just interrupted an assault in progress outside…oomph!" The man had recovered enough to give chase, and he had grabbed Nyota with enough force to knock the device from her hand. It clattered away, but the other woman clambered for it as she fell. She began to beg for help. "Please, we're just outside the Science and Exploration building, we need help! He's fighting with her!"

Nyota struggled to regain her footing, stomping down hard on the man's foot. He grabbed her hair, pulling it cruelly and jerking her head back. Nyota refused to scream. She cleared her mind, focusing solely on her attacker. _Breathe. Jab. Breathe. Elbow. Find his weakness and exploit it._ Combat training 101. The man was driven by rage, and he was strong. He was bound to make a mistake, though. He managed to get her in a headlock, but it forced him to release her hair, freeing her head to move enough to bite him. As soon as his grip loosened she shoved her shoulder into his arm, breaking the headlock, and she brought her foot down hard again on his. It was a square hit, and the man yowled in pain, falling back enough for Nyota to whirl around and face him head on. She kicked him while he was teetering on his heels, forcing him to collapse backwards. As he lay on the ground, Nyota heard pounding footsteps and turned towards the sound.

Spock had heard the struggle as he left his lab for the night. A sense of foreboding had gripped him, and he sprinted down to the sounds only to find a fierce, bedraggled Cadet Uhura standing over a prone male figure. The girl she had helped sat shaking on the concrete, still gripping Nyota's comm. Assessing the situation, Spock decided the man was still aware enough to run, and forced him onto his stomach, putting a knee into his back.

"Are you injured, Cadet Uhura?" he asked, looking her over quickly. She was panting slightly, and the sleeve of her uniform had a small tear. The short uniform had ridden up her hips slightly, exposing her toned thighs more. She shook her head, looking away from him and towards the woman she had rescued.

"Natalie," she said softly, leaning down and reaching towards the younger woman. "Did he hurt you at all?"

The girl was shaking violently, her teeth chattering together too much for her to answer. Nyota sat down next to her and wrapped one arm around her, the other taking the comm from her death grip. "Shh, Natalie, it's ok. Everything will be ok," she placated. She then spoke into her comm. "Emergency services, the attacker has been neutralized but the cadet he attacked needs medical attention."

The dispatcher on the other end came back with an edge of fear in his voice. "We have a bus and police headed your way, cadet. Can you clarify the situation?"

"Commander Spock has the attacker pinned to the ground. Cadet Thompson is going into shock, what is your ETA?"

"Two minutes, cadet. Please ask the commander to remain on scene, and see if you can get Cadet Thompson to speak to you. Don't let her pass out or go to sleep."

"Understood." Uhura shut the comm, and turned her full attention to the shaking leaf beside her. "Natalie, you heard him, right? Talk to me. How old are you?"

"T-t-twen-ty," the girl stuttered, trying to focus on Nyota. She seemed to be having a hard time focusing.

"Good. Where are you from?"

"C-chica-go," Natalie replied.

"What's your given name?"

"Natalie Jayce Thompson."

Spock listened as Nyota ran through the standard questions. The girl's answers got steadier. Her shaking seemed to slow. Nyota's questions became softer, and the girl was able to nod or shake her head. Her breathing slowed to almost normal by the time the ambulance and police arrived. Spock had been taught the standard questions, but had never delivered them as Nyota did now, level, yet _emotional_. Gentle, kind, and commanding. The girl responded so well that the EMTs had very little to do, but Spock saw that she refused to release Nyota's hand.

The police had relieved him of the man who had attempted to assault Natalie Thompson. He was not a cadet, but a man from an 18-and-over bar Cadet Thompson had patronized the past weekend. She had rebuffed his advances, and he had retaliated. Spock had gleaned this from the brief skin contact he had sustained. The man's thoughts were disordered and tinted by his rage. Spock gladly relinquished the man to police custody, grateful to withdraw his hands from this poor example of a human.

"Commander, we will need to take your statement, as well as Cadet Uhura's," an officer told him. He nodded, and told the officer everything he had seen and done. Uhurha had remained at Cadet Thompson's side, and had agreed to ride to the medical facilities. An officer was to follow them. Having given his statement, Spock was uncertain how to proceed. He was technically the most senior officer present, and it was his responsibility to see to the health of his students. He also would need to file a report.

"Officer, you are following the ambulance to the Academy medical center, correct?" he asked of the policeman. The man nodded. "May I acquire transport with you? I need to remain with my students until their care is seen to by a medical officer."

"Of course, Commander. Jump in on the other side." The officer motioned for him to get in on the other side of his hovercar. They followed the ambulance as it clipped across the campus, neither man saying a word.

* * *

An ambulance pulled up outside the E.R., killing its sirens as it did. Leonard McCoy had been hoping for a quiet night, for once. He was the on-call medical cadet for the night, and it always seemed that his nights on emergency were a shade of hell. It had, until now, been a set-up for a slow night, for which McCoy had been thankful. Now on his thirtieth hour of wakefulness, he needed a nap, and knew he would not be getting one any time soon. He roused two nurses to help him, and they met the EMTs as they unloaded their patient.

The EMTs had been unable to do much for the girl, and McCoy doubted anything but rest would help her. Emotional "shock" was not truly shock and could only be treated medically with a sedative. He administered one now, and the girl relaxed visibly, releasing the other cadet's hand. McCoy turned to face her for the first time. "Cadet Uhura," he muttered in surprise.

"Hello, Dr. McCoy, how are you tonight?" the cadet replied in an exhausted voice. The doctor saw harsh bruises beginning to emerge on her neck and face, and was certain she had taken more of a beating than the other woman.

"To hell with how I'm doing. Get in that triage room so I can examine you," McCoy said, pointing down the hallway to an open door.

Just then, a Vulcan with Commander stripes and the academic gray uniform stepped through the sliding bay doors into the E.R. He was accompanied by a police officer, who immediately walked over to the receptionist and began explaining their circumstances. McCoy paused as the Vulcan walked towards him. "What can I do for you, Commander?" McCoy asked warily.

"I must relinquish these two cadets into your care, doctor," the Vulcan stated, his voice empty. He clasped his hands behind his back, casting a glance in the direction of Cadet Uhura. It almost looked concerned to McCoy, but whatever he had read in the Vulcan's face was wiped away in an instant. "Cadet Uhura performed admirably, and I am eager to ascertain she has suffered no significant damage. Also, per Starfleet regulation, I must file a report on tonight's events, and I wish my information to be complete."

McCoy nodded, an eyebrow raised. "Your report will have to take a back seat to Cadet Uhura's injuries. Cadet Thompson has been sedated and we will do a physical on her when she wakes up again. There's nothing more for you to do tonight, Commander. Go home."

Spock stood for a moment, his face a blank mask. Finally, he nodded. "Thank you, doctor. When your examination is complete, please forward me the information so I may attach it to my report." The Vulcan's body turned slightly, angled toward Uhura. "Cadet, please inform me of your progress and when you will be released."

Uhura nodded tiredly at Spock. "Understood, Commander. See you tomorrow," she said. She attempted to stand a little more at attention, but her body refused to respond. The adrenaline had left her system, and her limbs were beginning to ache and feel heavy. She could acutely feel where she had been struck. McCoy reached for her, seeing her flagging, and wrapped one arm around her waist gingerly, taking her arm in the other hand. He turned Uhura away from the still-hovering Vulcan. He seemed very reluctant to leave for some reason. McCoy pushed it out of his mind and started assessing Uhura as he walked her down to the triage room.

"I'm fine, Dr. McCoy, I'm just tired and a little bruised," she insisted. Her grasp on his hand said otherwise.

"Uhura, run through what happened with me," McCoy replied, helping her onto the exam table. He grabbed a scanner off the nearby counter and began running it around Uhura's head and neck.

"Natalie, Cadet Thompson, was attacked as she left my tutoring session. I caught up to her just as her attacker overtook her and shoved her to the ground. He managed to land a couple blows on her, I think, but it appeared his goal was to subdue her," Nyota said mechanically. She had shut herself away from the situation, walling off the potential horror it could have been. "I intervened, attempting to overcome him before he could reorient himself. He gained the upper hand because of his size, but I was able to break his headlock and retaliate. Commander Spock appeared after I knocked the man to the ground a second time and restrained him so I could tend to Cadet Thompson."

"Damn," McCoy uttered, nodding appreciatively. "Sounds like quite a brawl. Remind me never to make you angry, Cadet."

"Doctor, shouldn't you be tending to Natalie?" Uhura asked, her exhaustion winning over.

"Not at the moment. I did a quick examination of her when the EMTs wheeled her in, and she suffered no significant injury, just a couple of bruises. You did a good job of talking her down. Uhura, you're going to have to remove your uniform so I can complete your exam. I have to make sure he didn't land any solid hits." McCoy handed her a folded hospital robe, and saw the distasteful look the cadet gave it. "Don't worry, the robes they issue now are much less humiliating than they used to be."

He stepped away, pulling the curtain to give Uhura some privacy. He heard her reluctant sigh and the sound of her uniform hitting the ground. "Ready, doctor."

McCoy reentered the curtained area, leaving it pulled to provide her some form of modesty. The hospital robe covered well while still allowing easy access to the examiner. McCoy attached a few leads to Uhura; a clip on her index finger, a strap around each wrist, and a cold, sticky tab on her jugular vein. She flinched a little as he pressed the last tab onto her neck. A bruise had already begun to form close to where Dr. McCoy applied pressure, and he looked at her apologetically as he felt her wince. The monitors beeped to life at the touch of a button, and all her vitals read normal.

"You can still call me Leonard, by the way, Uhura," Dr. McCoy said as he continued his examination. She was severely bruised in two main areas, and she had removed enough of her robe to show them to McCoy. He was surprised at her modesty, despite having known the woman for a year and a half. "Just because you're now a patient doesn't mean you have to pretend we aren't friends."

Nyota released a shallow breath as McCoy probed a bruise over her ribs gently. "Ouch."

"Oh, don't be a baby," McCoy scolded. "It's just a bruised rib. A hair towards the center and he would have broken it for you and you'd be in a lot more pain."

"That's a comfort," Nyota replied, rolling her eyes. "Thanks, Leonard."

"Don't get snappy with me, young lady," the doctor admonished jokingly. His voice softened. "You did a good thing, and it could have ended a lot worse for you, or for her. I'll get you something to dull the pain in your ribs. Unfortunately, your bruises will have to heal on their own. No vigorous exercise for a week, and then light exercise until those bone bruises go away. I want to see you back in ten days for re-evaluation." McCoy helped her off the exam table, and escorted her to the same room into which he had sent Cadet Thompson.

Natalie was fast asleep on a biobed, the sensors monitoring her quietly. McCoy ushered Nyota into the nearby hospital bed, and administered a light sedative hypo into an uninjured area of Nyota's neck. It still earned him a dirty look, to which his only reply was an eyeroll and a quiet laugh. "Go to sleep," he whispered, turning off the remaining light as he exited the room and closed the door.

* * *

Instead of leaving, as he had been told, Spock stood by the reception desk until he saw Dr. McCoy come back out of the hospital room. He had been unable to force himself out of the building. He could not justify the feeling, knowing that both cadets were in more than capable hands. His duty had been done. Why could he not leave?

"Commander, I thought I told you to leave," the doctor said unhappily. He was a gruff man, and seemed patronized by Spock's presence. He set his PADD down on the desk, glaring at Spock.

"I found my concern for Cadet Uhura's wellbeing difficult to dismiss. What were your findings?" Spock was straightforward enough, McCoy could not begrudge him for wasting his time.

"She's fine. A few bruises and bruised ribs, but nothing a couple weeks of taking it easy won't cure. She's asleep now."

"And Cadet Thompson's condition?" Spock's inquiry about Thompson almost seemed like an afterthought. McCoy filed that tidbit away to think about later.

"Also sleeping. Her physical injuries aren't severe, but we won't know what psychological effects she's suffered until she wakes up. My staff psychologist will assess her in the morning. Now, will you leave my hospital so I can get on with my night?" McCoy was becoming more irritated by the minute. He picked up his PADD and walked away, muttering something about a burn victim and a glass of whiskey.

Spock raised an eyebrow, but turned away and walked out of the E.R. It was a half kilometer to his quarters, a very quick walk. The campus slept, unaware of the attack that had taken place a mere half-hour before.

Dr. McCoy's brusque assurance of Uhura's health had done nothing to ease his mind. It was in turmoil, but meditation would put it right. The building lift took him to the fourth floor and to his apartment in seconds. He changed out of his uniform and into his meditation robe, pulling out his _asenoi_. He thought of the night he had sheltered Uhura in his apartment, and the long conversation they had. The way she smiled at him, her long hair falling over her shoulders. She looked small in his shirt and sweats. Her cheeks dimpled when she smiled.

_Breathe in_. In the office, she always appeared so serious. _Breathe out_. The canteen. So passionate. _Breathe in. Attain clarity._ In the night, standing over her attacker. _Breathe out. Release your thoughts._ Standing exhausted by Cadet Thompson. _Breathe in_. Weakly clinging to Dr. McCoy. _Breathe out. Clear your mind._ The images of Uhura could not be dismissed. _I am…worried about her,_ he thought. _It is illogical. She suffered only minor injuries. _

The _asenoi_ sputtered, echoing the disorder in his mind. He stared at it, following his patterned breathing. He was finally able to clear his mind after twenty minutes of staring at the flame. _Breathe in. Attain clarity. Breathe out. Clear you mind. Breathe in. Focus on the light. Breathe out. Release disorder. Breathe in. Out. _

Blessed clarity. Calm finally pervaded his mind, and he reordered his thoughts. He was now able to turn them back to the night's events. Spock looked at the timeline objectively. Uhura had performed above and beyond her calling. She deserved recognition, though he knew she would rather not receive any. Commendation was a necessity in this case; even a private commendation would be necessary if Cadet Thompson decided she would prefer the occurrence to remain under wraps. Cadet Thompon's psychological response was somewhat troublesome. She was still very young, and only in her first year at the Academy, so her response was to be expected. However, she would need help to overcome her attack if she wished to remain in Starfleet. The question of the attacker…how did he come to be on the campus? It was a closed campus, with identification verified any time someone passed through its massive gates. This man had obviously gained access through illegal methods. Security was in question, if such a man was able to walk through the campus unaccosted simply to satisfy a personal vendetta.

_Breathe in. Breathe out. _Exhaustion wanted to conquer him this evening, but he felt that even if he concluded his meditation, he would not sleep easily. _Breath in._ Uhura was asleep at the hospital, lying under the effect of sedatives and pain killers. She had been in pain, at one point, but she was in good hands. Capable hands. Why was he questioning this?

His meditation had come full circle. He obviously was not going to make any more progress tonight. Spock rose, extinguishing his _asenoi_. His comm panel hummed quietly, its normal noise level infringing on his peace. The report should be filed as soon as possible, anyway. Sitting down at the console, he brought up a blank memo and typed everything he had brought to his mind during meditation. It only took a few minutes, but he added a line at the bottom as an afterthought. _This breach in security is inexcusable. While we cannot guarantee the safety of Starfleet enlisted on active duty, we should be able to guard our own campus with enough diligence as to ensure the health and wellness of Academy students. We are, after all, the responsible party for them. _

A confirmation of receipt pinged a moment after he sent the message off, and he leaned back, certain it would be received by all members of the academic board. It was past midnight, and sleep would be a well-earned break. However, his mind was still restless. He considered contacting Cadet Uhura, for a very brief moment, but dismissed it almost as soon as the thought occurred. Doing the math very quickly in his head, he calculated that his parents' city on Vulcan would be in its' midday rotation. It was enough to prompt him to key up his mother's video contact.

His side rang for several heartbeats before his mother's tan face materialized on the holo. She smiled broadly at him for a moment, but her expression quickly turned to one of concern. "_Spock, you look drawn. What's wrong, dear_?" She spoke in Vulcan.

"_Mother_," Spock said in greeting, sitting a little straighter. He had forgotten how attune to his attitudes his mother was. "_I am well. It has been a…trying day_."

His mother relaxed a little at the confirmation he had not been hurt. "_It must be very late for you on Earth, so you must have some reason for calling._"

Lady Amanda knew when something had gone amiss, or when Spock was troubled by something. It never did any good to hide it. "_I…wished to speak to you_," Spock told her. "_I was witness to a particular encounter involving two of my students and a currently anonymous attacker. My assistant is one of the students, and she intervened for the other. I came upon them as Cadet Uhura subdued their assailant, and restrained the man. Uhura was injured in the encounter. I find myself very concerned with her well-being_."

Lady Amanda smiled her consoling smile. "_You're worried about her, dear? Is she very hurt?"_

_"No, she suffered only minor injuries. My concern is illogical, yet I cannot relieve myself of the sensation that something more might happen to her whilst hospitalized."_ Spock was having a difficult time controlling his facial expressions, as he always did when speaking with his mother. She had that affect, even on his stoic father.

_"It is very natural, Spock, to feel concern for one's friends_," Amanda said. "_You have spoken of Cadet Uhura several times in our weekly communications. It's obvious that you are developing a close attachment to the woman, which makes me very happy."_

_"Developing any attachment to one of my students is inadvisable,"_ Spock returned, shaking his head slightly. "_Her absence in my office leaves a very empty space, however. I have never experienced such a sensation as her egress leaves, and I do not find it amenable."_

_"Loneliness_," Amanda said, giving him a word for the empty space Uhura left. Her eyes told him she knew the feeling. They were sad eyes, now. "_You are more closely associated than I had thought, then. Do you consider her a friend, Spock?"_

The young Vulcan thought for a moment before replying. _"I consider Christopher Pike a friend. Cadet Uhura seems to fill a very similar role, though our ranks are too far separate to be certain."_

_"Spock, friendship has nothing to do with rank. Rank only affects your professional interactions."_

_"Mother, it would be ill advised to consider any of our interactions outside of professional,"_ Spock replied, uncertain as to his mother's meaning. _"I am her professor, and her superior officer. I do not wish to display favoritism."_

_"Who says you must?"_ Amanda retorted_. "You are both adults, and as such you are capable of drawing the line between personal and professional. You, of all people, can separate the two. Do you desire her company?"_

"_Yes_," Spock said, not even having to consider the question. "_Her conversation is most intriguing. She is intellectually stimulating."_

_"Then where is the problem?"_

_"Policy…"_

_"Spock,"_ Amanda said sharply, cutting him off. _"Your policy says nothing about friendship, only about fraternization. Even those grounds are vague. You don't plan on fraternizing, and even if you did, propriety would hold you back. You forget, my son, I know you better than you know yourself."_

Spock stayed silent for a moment. _"It is as you say, Mother,_" he said finally. _"Friendship with the cadet is a desirable outcome, and I see no reason to rule it out."_

_"Good, Spock. You need more friends."_ His mother was still smiling, and Spock knew she hid a great deal of concern behind her smiles. _"Speaking of friends…have you heard from T'Pring lately?"_

_"I have not communicated with T'Pring directly in nearly three years,"_ he replied, his dark eyes clouding at the mention of his betrothed. _"Why do you ask?"_

Amanda had turned expressionless, and she now sipped at her tea absent-mindedly. _"No particular reason. Just that…Spock, you'll be twenty-eight this year and, well, it just doesn't seem fair to me that you are so alone on Earth. You can't avoid her forever."_

_"I do not believe T'Pring would ever choose to leave Vulcan. She would be ill-suited for space, or even Earth."_ He paused here, contemplating the truth darkly. _"And T'Pring is the party who severed communications. I have attempted numerous times to contact her, yet I receive no contact from her. I…do not think she desires our betrothal."_

_"She inquired after you last month, when your father and I saw her at the Vulcan Science Academy fundraiser. I had assumed it was due to an inability to reach you."_ Amanda looked very troubled now. _"Is the bond still live?"_

Spock nodded. _"I have tried to reach out to her through the bond as well. She seems to be ignoring me, and has done so for nearly the full three years that she interrupted our contact."_

Silence reigned for two and a half minutes as Lady Amanda contemplated what her son's latest news meant. Finally, she sighed. _"I will speak to your father about this. I don't like it, not one bit. If she breaks the betrothal before your first…"_

_"Mother, I do not feel that this is a concern, nor should we speak of it,"_ Spock said, a slight shudder that he failed to control running through his spine.

_"Very well, Spock,"_ Amanda sighed_. "You look tired, dear. You should try to get some sleep."_

_"I will. Does Sarek still avoid speaking with me?"_

_"Oh Spock, you break my heart at the end of our conversation,"_ Amanda replied. _"He does. I beg him to contact you, but I am afraid the one thing that may bring you together will be some great tragedy."_

_"Very well. Please take care, Mother,"_ Spock said. He lifted his hand in the _ta'al_. "_Live long and prosper."_

_"Peace and long life, Spock,"_ Amanda replied, mirroring him. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she said, _"I love you."_ She terminated the transmission, and Spock sat at the console another minute before rising and going to bed.

He lay awake for many hours before finding a fitful hour of sleep before dawn.

* * *

And there's chapter 3! Some of you may wonder why Nyota is such a badass at such an early age. This stems from an interview of Zoe Saldana I recently read, and in it she talks about the development of the Nyota Uhura character. She made a deal with JJ Abrams that if he decided to develop her character further, Uhura could never be a damsel in distress. Saldana talked about discussing with Nichelle Nichols how Uhura should always be a strong character. The fact that Nichols was a ground-breaking actress that fit a ground-breaking role should be a statement in and of itself, but I really admire the strength that both women embody.

Also, I felt it important to include Lady Amanda here because in TOS, Spock hadn't talked to his father in something like 18 years. That's a lot of conflict to take advantage of, so I feel I must.

As always, thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

_**Here you are, the next installment! Thanks so much for following and for your reviews and favorites!**_

* * *

**Chapter 4- Never Alone**

Nyota Uhura woke groggily from a sedative-drenched sleep. She still felt bone-tired, even though her sleep had been heavy and dreamless. Her first lucid breath brought her the tang of disinfectant, and her eyes snapped open to stare at the white particle-board ceiling. The previous night's events rushed back to her, and she looked over at the bed next to her. Natalie Thompson was still sedated, her own drug cocktail having been mixed so as to ensure a full eight hours or longer. A figure stirring close by cause Uhura to look in the other direction, toward a chair situated in the corner of the room.

"Leonard?" she asked, and the doctor blinked at her owlishly.

"Hmmgood," he expulsed, stretching. "You're awake."

"Did you stay here all night?"

"It was the only place people would stop bothering me so I could catch a cat nap," McCoy replied, standing and stretching more fully. The chair had been particularly uncomfortable, but he spoke the truth for the most part. He had dodged into the room an hour before, sat down, and almost immediately had fallen asleep. He had been happily snoring away until the medically-trained officer in him heard Uhura's breathing change. McCoy glanced at his watch. "Well, my dear, my shift is over in twenty minutes and it's time to get you checked out of here and back to your normal life."

Uhura moved gingerly, testing her limbs and finally her neck. The sedative and pain-killer mixture kept her pleasantly numb to most of the pain, except around her neck. McCoy ran his scanner around her again, then placed a stethoscope over her heart and lungs. Apparently please with the results, he nodded and typed something into his PADD. "Well, you have as clean a bill of health as anyone can after being choked and beaten."

"You make it sound like I lost, Leonard. You forget, I won," Nyota said with a grin.

"Cadet Uhura, is that pride I detect in your voice?" McCoy teased her gruffly. He gave her a paltry look. "Maybe if you had a little humility you could stay out of trouble."

"Says the man who is friends with the most ambitious and cocky man in all of StarFleet." Nyota hopped off her hospital bed, patting McCoy on the shoulder as she did so. She disguised a grunt of pain in a laugh.

"Who, Jim? The kid's not so bad once you get to know him," McCoy swore.

"No, thanks. Gaila has gotten to know him well enough for both of us. Can I change and go back to my dorm, now? I'm already late for class."

"Don't worry, Cadet Demanding," McCoy said. "I already sent out a communication to all your professors. You get to play hooky today, and you earned it, stepping in like you did. Don't tell anybody I said that."

Nyota thanked him, and he gave her a little privacy to change. She saw her torn uniform had been replaced by a freshly laundered uniform, and she slipped it over her head gratefully. Drawing the curtain away, she saw Leonard checking over Cadet Thompson's vitals. Nyota pulled on her boots and asked how she was.

"Same as last night. Just a few bruises, nothing she won't heal from just like you," McCoy replied quietly. "Based on her reaction to the attack, though, she's going to have nightmares for a very long time."

They walked out of the room together, and McCoy escorted her to the reception desk. "That pointy-eared commander must think very highly of you, Uhura. He dropped by that uniform early this morning, said to contact him if you needed anything else. What exactly is he to you?"

Uhura raised an eyebrow in his general direction as she signed her paperwork. "He's my commanding officer, and I'm his TA. I consider him a friend but I don't really know if he reciprocates. He's Vulcan, for goodness sake, you never know what's going on behind that façade."

"Ok, Cadet, cool your boots," McCoy said. His expression said he thought more might be there. "You're free for now, but I want to see you back in a week to make sure everything is healing like it should be. You seem to be a little on the anemic side, so those bruises may take a little longer. If I feel they're not pretty enough I'm going give you a blood replenisher and iron supplements to speed the process a little." McCoy flicked a card at her across the desk. "Call my direct line and set up a time with me."

Uhura nodded in affirmative and gave the grumpy doctor a playful wave. The morning air engulfed her as she stepped into the sunlight. It was crisp and refreshing after the stale recirculated air of the hospital. She wanted to get home before the pain killers wore off completely, thinking that lying in bed might just be the best plan for the day. They were already fading from her system, and she felt everything more acutely than before.

Thankfully, the medical center was strategically placed near the dormitories. She had reached the building in five minutes, and it only took another three to bring her to her door. She palmed open the hydraulic door and ambled inside.

"What in seven hells happened to you?" Gaila shrieked. The Orion was teary-eyed as she looked at her friend, assessing her condition. "Commander Spock showed up here early this morning and said something about needing a uniform for you and an attack?"

"Gaila, I'm ok, really. I'm sorry, I should have had Leonard or Commander Spock tell you. I stayed in the hospital last night. I broke up an attack on Cadet Thompson. You remember her, right? She's in our focus." Nyota sat down on her bed and gingerly loosened the high neck of her uniform. Gaila stared at the blossoming bruise. Seeing this, Nyota said, "He caught me in a headlock, pretty tight. He looks worse."

"If you say so," Gaila replied incredulously. She inspected Nyota's bruises while the other girl undress. "You're staying in today, right?"

"Yeah," Nyota groaned, pulling her covers over herself. "Leonard sent an excuse to all my professors. I honestly won't be surprised if Spock still wants me for grading, but it's all stuff I can do here."

"Surely he wouldn't still expect you to do anything today? Is he that cold-blooded?" Gaila glanced at the clock on her bed stand, and begrudgingly began to pull on her boots.

"He's not cold-blooded. His blood is actually five degrees hotter than ours," Nyota replied. She had decided her back was the least painful, so she was laying on her back with one hand over her eyes, massaging them gently. She already had a headache.

"Right. Smart-ass," Gaila grumbled in mock-hostility. She grabbed pain capsules out of her drawer and placed them next to her friend. She ran a glass of cool water, and left that next to the medicine. "I have to go, hon. I've already missed my first class waiting for you."

"Mmm-k," Nyota mumbled, already falling into a light sleep. "See you later."

The door _whooshed_ open and closed again quietly, leaving Nyota to her own jumbled thoughts. The sedative had almost entirely worn off. She had kept the previous evening out of her mind until she would have the opportunity to go over it alone. Every emotion came back to her, filling her body and mind. Her own fear at her snap decision, her worry for the other woman, the relief when Spock had come…each emotion in turn came as she analyzed the event.

Dread had knotted itself in her stomach. She had not thought of her own welfare the night before, and was just now realizing, as the pain returned to her, how bad it could have turned out. Her fighting had been sloppy. Despite the breathing drill and attempting to make a fast recovery, she had been unable to recall the most effective neutralizing moves she had been taught. Had the man been a little more calculating and less blinded by rage, he would have easily overpowered her, and that scared her. She felt her breath hitch in her chest, and quickly took a deeper breath, releasing it slowly to calm herself. The last thing she needed was a panic attack. _It's illogical,_ she thought, smiling a little to herself at the phrase she had picked up from Commander Spock.

Nyota reached for the aspirin on her bedside table. She dumped out two into her palm and downed them with a sip of water. Her ribs ached. Her neck ached. Her head ached. She had punched her attacker hard enough to break the skin on her knuckles, and had been surprised at her own strength. She looked at them now. The skin was red and swollen, but clean and no longer bloody. It had not merited bandaging, so Leonard had just told her to keep it clean. _A badge of honor_.

* * *

Spock stood before his class, lecturing on the difference between trading and military dialects of Andorian. He was present in the classroom with only a quarter of his mind. One small portion was concerned with the _Enterprise_, but the rest of his compartmentalized machine was concerned with Cadet Uhura. She had not been in his first class, nor had he expected her to be. He had spoken with her attending physician, and both men had agreed she needed a day off. Spock found himself preoccupied with her, though, despite his efforts to remain focused. He dismissed his class at the bell, frustration growing within himself.

The students filed out eagerly. One student seemed to pause, consider approaching him, and thought better of it. Spock wondered at this, but only for a moment. He sat in a chair beside the lectern, and breathed in deeply. He centered himself on Uhura, and pushed the thoughts of her to the back of his mind, compartmentalizing them as efficiently as he could. In another breath, he brought his pressing problems forward, and partitioned them off so he could divide his attention among them, rather than illogically concerning himself with the well-being of an officially healthy student.

_Friend,_ a voice whispered in the back of his mind. He pushed it aside.

Able to focus now, he rose to attend to the next class. It was in the Sciences and Exploration building, and it was an advanced science protocol course. It required much of his attention, more than he had been able to give his last class. The day was bright and warm, and he let the sun sink into his skin. It was not the same heat as Vulcan—even now, he felt chilled, though the temperature was approximately 26 degrees Celcius. Stifling a sigh, Spock walked on to the next building.

His class had already assembled by the time he arrived. He followed his routine, setting up his computer console, keying up his screens, and listened to the loud rumble of students talking. Only a few had paused at his entrance; the remainder ignored him completely. As his first slide popped onto the screen, the students began to quiet, until a hush filled the entire room. Spock watched as it settled, his hands clasped behind his back, posture erect. He was focused now, and he launched into his lecture.

"We shall begin today where we had ended yesterday. When embarking on an away mission, as a scientist or science officer, your primary objective is to obtain as many samples as possible, within reasonable limits. However, this must be done with as little disturbance to the planet's environment as possible…"

The hour was over much faster than he had anticipated, even though he had been counting down the seconds in the back of his mind. The next hour was his allotted lunch break, and he had formulated a plan to set his mind at ease. Spock dismissed his class, warning them about the upcoming examination, and walked hurriedly to his quarters.

Spock palmed open his door, and felt the heater in his apartment kick on. He kept it Vulcan-hot usually, and the heat was welcome. His single bookcase was full of old volumes, the rare hard-copied books lined up neatly by origin. The tome he was after quickly drew his eye, and he pulled it off the shelf. It opened to a well-marked page, and Spock traced his finger over the verse. It was a poem, and he heard his mother reciting it melodically, giving the lines the emotion his father never could. He carefully closed the book, and walked over to his console. "Computer," he said evenly, "Locate Cadet Nyota Uhura."

"Working…Cadet Uhura is in dormitory A113," the mechanical voice intoned.

Spock walked out of his apartment, the number A113 drummed into his memory.

* * *

Her door buzzed, and Nyota rolled her eyes. Sleep had been elusive because the pain from her ribs had become insistent, despite the NSAIDs she had popped. She had a feeling the prying eyes outside the door were only interested in investigating the rumors that had no doubt been flying around the campus this morning. Regardless, she stood and slipped on a robe over her sweats and walked over to the panel. To her surprise, the man standing outside her door was dressed in academic greys.

"Commander Spock!" she said in surprise.

"Cadet Uhura, I wanted to be certain as to your health this afternoon," the Commander said. He stood tall in her doorway, his lithe body framed in metal. "Also, I brought you something to pass the time. It is unusual for you to sit with nothing to do." He held out an old leather-bound book.

Nyota accepted the book, running her fingers gently over the cover. "Thank you, sir," she said. She opened to the nameplate of the book, and smiled when she realized what language it was in. "High Vulcan?"

Spock nodded. "I thought this volume might be an asset to your study of the language. It is one of the books used in my own education. I took the liberty of adding notes in addition to what my father had in order to give you a more complete grasp of the translations. I…apologize, for some of the words in High Vulcan have a very poor translation into modern Vulcan, and no translation into Standard."

"I'm sorry, Commander, do you want to come in?" Nyota asked, remembering herself. She stepped aside, motioning for Spock to enter. "Please excuse the mess, Gaila's a great friend but a terrible roommate."

"The state of the room is unimportant," Spock said. "Indeed, my roommate during the academy would put yours to shame."

Nyota chortled a little, but winced in pain. She put a hand over her right ribs, rubbing the bruise gently, and took a seat on her bed. She pointed to her desk chair, the only one not covered in Gaila's clothing.

"Cadet Uhura, were you significantly injured in the altercation last night?" Spock asked. He took the seat she had motioned to, perching stiff-backed on the edge. Nyota shook her head slowly, and Spock took in her bruised neck. He knew her other bruises were covered up, and he was concerned as to their extent.

"No, sir." Nyota placed the book in her lap. "I'm just bruised, nothing a week won't heal."

"Should you need additional time away, all you need to do is ask me, or Dr. McCoy."

"Nonsense, today is plenty. Any more time off and I might go stir-crazy. What ended up happening to the attacker?" Spock's gaze was intense on her, but she had become used to being appraised in this manner by the Vulcan. All it meant was that she had his full attention, nothing more. However, out of uniform and in no more than a thin t-shirt, shorts, and a robe, his gaze made her feel unusually uncomfortable.

"The police took him to holding for the night. I have not discovered what charges will be brought, though I expect you and Cadet Thompson will be expected to testify." Spock saw Uhura shift a little, and interpreted it as a reaction to his scrutiny of her bruises. He dropped his gaze, not understanding her discomfort, but desiring to abate it. "Will Cadet Thompson be up to the task?"

"I don't know. Just the attack left her shaken. She may not be willing to testify. But I will," Nyota said strongly. Thinking of Natalie's injuries brought her anger back to heel.

Spock was struck by the passion in Uhura's voice. It made sense, but it still caught him slightly off guard. The attack had not been on her, after all, but on one of her underclassman, a woman she knew very little of. "Is your anger at the criminal, or the crime he attempted to commit?"

Nyota caught and held his stare, and he saw a focus he rarely saw in the eyes of a human. "Both. And why not? The crime by itself is heinous, but it requires a person to execute it. Crime would not exist without a twisted consciousness."

"You suggest that crime cannot exist without individuals to execute it. Do you mean to say that, were everyone like-minded, crime would not exist?" Spock had leaned forward slightly, engaging himself completely in the conversation.

"How can an entire population be like-minded? That suggests the removal of free will, something unknown in the Federation. Not to mention, highly illegal, since that would involve the same philosophy as slavery." Nyota shook her head. "Even in former utopian societal experiments, there was crime, because you can't control an individual."

"History has shown crime is the result of population size. Theoretically, if you could control crowding, you could control crime," Spock returned.

"I don't agree. I grew up in a little village outside of Nairobi, less than 500 people. There was no crowding, most of the population was middle-class, but even those considered lower class were comfortable. Poverty wasn't a problem in our community. Yet we still had crime. Most of it was petty theft, but when I was 18, we had a murder. One man killed another for having an affair with his wife. It wasn't a crime of passion, it was premeditated. He could have easily divorced his wife, but instead, he planned out how and when to kill her lover. Crime exists because selfishness is uncontrollable from person to person." As she spoke, Nyota had sat up straighter, motioning with her hands. She leaned towards Spock, almost close enough to touch him.

His dark eyes were transfixed by hers, and he leaned closer. "Emotion was his motivation. Had he controlled his emotion, he would have chosen a more logical path."

Nyota smiled at him, her lips drawing back in a graceful motion that lit up her eyes and dimpled her cheek. "But he was human, and emotion is our defining characteristic. Try as we might, we can't purge emotion like Vulcans can."

"Emotion is only purged by those who follow the discipline of kolinahr," Spock pointed out. "Mastery of one's emotion, if taught at an early enough age, is possible in any species."

This got him a laugh. "You've obviously never been around a human toddler," she said.

Spock's internal clock was ticking away, and he knew he needed to leave. "This conversation is most stimulating. However, I must return to my duties."

Nyota's face fell a little, but she nodded. "Thank you for visiting me, Commander. It means a lot to me."

Spock rose, and Nyota thought she saw the edges of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. "I must admit, Cadet, I came for rather…_selfish_ reasons. I have recently realized that your friendship means a great deal to me, and concern for your welfare was a rather disorienting feeling. Enjoy the book." With that, he showed himself out, leaving Nyota alone.

"Well, that was different," she mumbled to herself. She picked up the book again, holding it as though it were the most fragile thing in the world. It was old leather, dyed hunter green, with gold molding around the edges. Nyota ran her fingers over it again, and opened the book to the first page. Nothing was written on the first page except the title and author, and the date published. It was a very old book, from that date. This was a second edition, so not quite so priceless as a first, but very close. Nyota flipped to the next page, and began to read.

_"Olaya qual nes k'shatri tor Ah'rak sutra_._"_ The language was much more difficult to pronounce than modern Vulcan. She looked at the translation written above the script. It was in Vulcan, in a strong, square hand. _"Emotion is not foreign to the Vulcan people,"_ it said. She was hooked, and continued the translation. Many words she could not pronounce, but locked them in her mind to ask Spock. By the time she had finished several chapters, she could recognize many of the words that no longer had translations written over them. The translations were becoming fewer and fewer. At first, all of the translations had been written in the square hand she could only believe to be Spock's father. After the first forty pages, another hand began to show up in the margins. She recognized it as Spock's handwriting from the few notations she had ever seen him make. It was delicate script, still in Vulcan, a few in both Vulcan and Standard. The text was surprisingly detailed on the depth of emotions and Vulcan use of them.

She flipped back to the title page and read it once more, able to understand it now. _Fi'olaya_, or, _On Emotion_, was all it said. Nyota understood now that it was a treatise on Vulcan thought and emotion, written by Surak, the father of the Vulcan Awakening. It had been extremely enlightening, though she wondered if much of it still held true. Yet another thing she wanted to ask Commander Spock.

As an afterthought, Nyota grabbed her PADD and flipped through her messages until her last communication from Spock came up. She opened it and scrolled to the bottom of the memo to read the last sentence.

* * *

Spock scrolled through his PADD, sitting at his desk. The most recent modifications to the _U.S.S. Enterprise_ had come through, and he was actively perusing them. Most of them were insignificant figures, but he saw specifications for the bridge were ready to be considered. Several members of the engineering team had already submitted their suggestions of console arrangement to be considered by the command crew. Ultimately Captain Pike would have final say, but he was relying on Spock's suggestions for most of the design approval. They both knew how the bridge flowed best.

He reviewed each arrangement carefully, down to the square centimeter required. Some placed engineering next to communications, or next to the science station. Others placed science opposite communications, with engineering and navigation between them. None, however, placed science and communications near one another. Spock could not pin down the reason this upset him in any way, but it did. He typed out a memo, requesting the two be placed together. It was a logical arrangement, as communications was vital to the science officer's duty.

At least, that is what he told himself.

He included measurement specifications for both stations to compensate for the move. Very little had to be changed, but he knew it would be questioned. Not out loud, by anyone working on the ship, or any of the engineering team, but he would be called out by Pike.

There was a holo on the edge of his desk, which he left on constantly. It was of the _Enterprise_, from early renderings of her design. The original drawings were computerized, of course, but one of the artists had put his own flair on it, giving it more character than a simple computer image. It was as though each line had been hand drawn, shadings carefully done brush stroke by brush stroke. It was a beautiful reminder of the certain glory of the ship.

Nyota had remarked on it, the first day they had worked together in his office. It was after realizing that a lab table left much to be desired for grading space that Spock had insisted a small desk be installed in his office for her. She had walked in and immediately, her eyes had been drawn to the holo. It was the third distinct smile Spock had observed from her.

"It's so beautiful," she had said, longing in her voice. "Even in the shipyard, with half her hull unfinished, she was beautiful."

"You have seen the _Enterprise_?" Spock had asked, nearly surprised.

"When I first started the Academy," Nyota replied, sitting down. "The recruitment shuttle stopped over there for an evening. It made for quite an evening, but honestly the ship was the highlight of the trip. I knew the instant I saw her that I wanted to serve aboard her."

"There are many worthy ships in the fleet. You should not rule them out simply because the _Enterprise_ will be the newest."

"It's not that. Have you ever heard of love at first sight?" she asked. "I don't think I've ever felt it for a person, but I felt it for that ship."

It had been a slightly absurd conversation, in his mind. It was illogical to love an inanimate object, and he had pointed that out. However, the small part of his mind that was still rebellious, still human, told him she had the right of it. It was a beautiful ship, and he too, felt a deep connection to it. He did not go so far as to call it love, but he was already fond of it, having guided its design every step of the way.

A _ding_ on his PADD drew him back to reality, and he realized how long he had been staring at the holo. He opened the message, and saw it was from Cadet Uhura. The first sentence was in High Vulcan, the rest in Vulcan, and he suppressed a satisfied smile.

_S'frei nash-veh_. _I understand your message now. 'To understand, one must first set upon the path, and never alone.' If that is an offer of help, I am in need. I'm afraid my pronunciation of any of this is terrible, and only you will be able to school me on it. Thank you again for bringing me your book, and for visiting me. It means a great deal, and translating several chapters wasted many hours away for me. With any luck, I will become proficient enough to hold a conversation. So, thank you. I will be in tomorrow. _

_Good evening,_

_Cadet Uhura_

He reread the message, though he did not need to. He lingered on the last words of his challenge to her. _Worlo sa'awek._

* * *

**_So now you know what Spock told Uhura! Again, thank you all for the amazing reviews you have been giving me. I apologize for the time it takes me to post. I may start shortening the chapters in order to post faster, but if you indicate in the reviews that this is a good speed and length, things will stay the same! Also, I must give credit where credit is due. The Vulcan seen here is not my own creation, but is rather scavenged from the Vulcan Language Dictionary. So, if the creators of said compilation happen to be reading this, thanks! It is also not High Vulcan, but I'm not creative enough to come up with an entirely new dialect. Sorry!_**


	5. Chapter 5

Alrighty guys, here is the long awaited next chapter. Sorry this took so long, it was a surprisingly delicate chapter to write.

But first, I must address a problem a wonderful reviewer pointed out. I forgot to include my translations, garbled together as they were from the VLD. So, in contrition, here are said translations.

_Worlo sa'awek.- never alone_

_S'frei nash-veh- I understand you_

_Olaya qual nes k'shatri tor Ah'rak sutra- emotion is not foreign to the Vulcan people._

_kohlinar- a trial to purge all emotion_

I also must address a misunderstanding posted by a reviewer. Nyota does not fall in love with the _Enterprise_ because it's the newest ship. As she stated when Spock cajoled her about it, she states "It's not that." I left it open intentionally, because I'm addressing it in this chapter.

Thank you for your following, favorites, and reviews! I'm loving them. Thank you for bringing these mistakes to light.

* * *

**Chapter 5- Losing Sleep**

Spock rarely dreamed, but when he did his dreams were bright and vivid. Details were the fruit of his Vulcan mind, and anything he dreamt was high contrast and perfect in recall. He was home again, but it was not of his most recent visit that he dreamed. This was before he had left the planet for the Academy, before even leaving school. He was a child again, standing in the courtyard facing a young Vulcan girl. They were surrounded by family members, and T'Pau, his honorable grandmother, stood beside the two children. Spock heard the words she spoke, though they seemed more distant and vague than he remembered. He felt oddly detached from the entire situation, as though he, too, were simply an onlooker.

_"It is tradition that a bondmate be selected at an early age, so as to facilitate the development of two minds. We were not made to travel the paths of life alone. Surak taught us that emotion is the greatest hindrance an individual experiences. He also taught us that two are stronger than one when united in like-mindedness. The bonding of children predates the Awakening, when our ancestors were ruled by emotion, and has remained a key structure of our society. Because when the time of burning comes upon the male of our species, the teachings of Surak are ultimately lost, and it is only the bond that can ensure the safety of each. You will both say the words, and we will create the koon'ul, the bond that will forever unite you in one mind."_

Spock watched, or felt, as T'Pau placed one hand on either child's psi points. He felt his mouth form the words, _"My mind to your mind,"_ and the girl replied, _"My thoughts to your thoughts."_

The vision dissolved as the children entered each other's minds, guided by T'Pau. The girl's mind was logically organized and completely compartmentalized. There was little color, very unlike his own mother's mind. He felt the familial tug of his mother's mind as he compared the two. He knew she was smiling, off to his left. His father's bond also tugged at him, reminding him gently to focus on the girl before him. T'Pau guided the two through the bond formation, each giving full access to the other, as was expected. Nothing was reserved, and the bond was cleanly made. It was a fragile thing, unlike those he had with his father and mother. The _telan t'kanlar, _the betrothal bond, was much weaker, and stayed that way until the marriage was consummated. Even at such a young age, he knew the biology behind the bonds, and what they meant.

T'Pau broke their contact with one another, and each withdrew into their own minds. _"Investigate the bond you have made."_ Spock drew in his breath and travelled down into the depths of his mind where his familial bonds were. There, his bond with T'Pring glowed dimly. He touched it, and it flared a little when she returned the touch. _"Always together, never apart. It is done,_" T'Pau intoned, and the circle was broken. The vision dissolved as though it were being burned from the outside in, and the smoldering fire transformed the image to one of fiery passion, but the woman was not T'Pring, and Spock awoke in a cold sweat.

"_Ha-ge_," he clipped. The lights came on at his command, and the clock flashing on his table told him it was 2:00 in the morning. He was breathing as though he had run ten miles. He threw off the sheets and stood, moving into the living room as though the images were chasing after him.

Cold water on his face shocked him fully awake, and he stared at himself in the mirror. His hair was tousled, his skin flushed green with the tone of his blood. He was still drenched in sweat, his t-shirt sticking to him. He stripped it off and tossed it aside.

Meditation would be the only rest he would get tonight. He would not go back to sleep because of the images that still haunted his mind. Spock walked out of the bathroom, forcing himself to maintain a controlled pace as he walked over to his bookshelf to pull down his asenoi. The pottery oil pot was very old, and he hoped it would bring him solace. He lit it, and placed it on the ground in the middle of the room. He sat before it, and focused his troubled thoughts on it. Before long, he was able to sort through his thoughts and banish many of them.

As the oil in his asenoi burned down, he saw the dawn break through his kitchen window.

* * *

Nyota rolled out of bed when her alarm chimed loudly. Gaila's answering groan from across the room indicated it was still far too early for alarms. Nyota disagreed on this morning, because today would be the day she accompanied Commander Spock to see the _Enterprise_.

She had hardly slept that night, with too much excitement pent up. Gaila had invited her out, but Nyota had declined, citing the fact she wanted to be asleep before midnight so as to be well-rested for the next day. However, she had still been awake when Gaila stumbled in at two in the morning. The Orion girl had laughed at her, and fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Nyota had drifted into fitful sleep soon after, but now she knew she would have to run on only about an hour's worth of good sleep. But it was worth it.

She went for the sonics today, passing on the bliss that real water would bring. It was faster, and more efficient, if less stimulating. After less than two minutes, Nyota was out. She pulled on her civvies, and quietly exited her shared dorm. Gaila muttered muffled curses after her.

It was still dark when she walked across campus to meet Commander Spock. It was a heavy kind of morning, the kind the pressed in around you. The fog impaired her vision past ten meters, but it did not bother Nyota at all. The warmth of her leather jacket fought off any chill the fog brought, as it wrapped its white tendrils around her knee-high boots.

Spock was waiting for her at the hangar bay, his hands clasped behind his back as he studied the small shuttle they would be taking out to the Riverside shipyard. It was a fast clipper, meant to only carry a few people. The only people it would be carrying today would be Spock and Uhura to Iowa, to be joined by two more passengers on the ride back, so it was sufficient. The clipper made the big recruiting and transport shuttles look like tortoises next to a hare. It would make the jump from San Francisco to Iowa in an hour and a half, half the time normal transports could make the trip. It was not the most pleasant option, as the small craft often experienced severe turbulence do to its size. It was an overland transport, though, and much more efficient than the lumbering space transports. The only faster option was a hoverbike, and only half an hour would be saved at the cost of decorum. No, this transport was adequate.

Spock turned as he heard familiar boot heels clicking on pavement, their _rat-tat rat-tat_ beating a cadence. Nyota walked with assurance and confidence. He had never known her to falter. He almost smiled at her, his lips twitching upward the minutest amount, in response to sun-bright beaming smile. Her hair was in its accustomed ponytail, and it swayed back and forth behind her as she strutted toward him. "Good morning, Commander," she said in greeting.

"Indeed, Cadet Uhura." He motioned towards the open bay door of the shuttle. "I am certain our pilot will not begrudge it if we leave early."

Uhura ducked into the shuttle, and Spock followed her in, walking toward the cockpit to inform the pilot of their presence. Uhura could see the sandy-haired man running through the pre-flight checks. Spock bent towards him slightly, speaking in a low but audible voice. The pilot nodded in acknowledgment, and Spock walked back into the cabin. Uhura settled into a seat at the front, strapping in and adjusting the incline to a more comfortable position. Spock took the seat one away from her, giving them each their own personal space. The transport was only a ten-seater, so it made no sense for them to sit immediately next to each other.

"How do your ribs feel today?" he asked, strapping himself into his own seat.

"I'm cleared for flight, if that's what you mean, sir," Uhura replied, thinking he wanted a practical response. She had made sure with McCoy her bruised ribs would be alright. He had given her an unofficial yes with the warning that any strenuous work would result in another week of enforced bed rest.

"I was inquiring as to your health. It would be illogical for you to be here if you were not cleared for flight."

This made Nyota smile again. "In that case, they feel better than they did yesterday, but I'm still a little sore."

"I sincerely hope you heal quickly." Spock had pulled a PADD out of his bag, and he now pulled up the _Enterprise_ specifications they were interested in and handed them to Cadet Uhura. He began describing the specs to her, leaning over his arm rest to point at the tablet's surface. "These are the general specifications for the entire ship. The only part we are focusing on today," he activated one part of the ship, "will be the communications and science decks."

They spent the next hour perusing the plans, Spock pointing out the relevant changes that heralded this visit. It was a two-sided conversation, with Uhura asking questions, giving her input, and Spock answering. It made the time pass quickly, and before either knew it the pilot was calling back through the cabin door that he was taking them in for a landing. Within fifteen minutes, they had landed on a concrete pad in the middle of an Iowa cornfield. A courier waited with a hovercar and snapped to attention when he saw Spock. He still wore his officer greys, even though he had indicated that Uhura should wear civvies for the trip, and the officer greys commanded respect. The courier was an airman, and the Commander stripes on Spock's uniform were the highest rank he had seen in weeks.

"At ease, airman," Spock said. "I presume you are our transportation."

"Yes, sir," the airman replied. He clasped his hands behind his back, staring straight ahead still, his feet set wide. "I am at your disposal for the day, sir."

Nyota glanced at the airman's name badge, and caught Spock as he did the same minutely. "Very good, Airman Stearns. My colleague is Cadet Uhura, she will be assisting me today. We would like to make good time to the shipyard."

Stearns moved aside, motioning to the back seat of the hovercar. It was a convertible, with the top laid down. It was a warm day, and when they got going, the wind whipped Nyota's ponytail back. She closed her eyes and leaned back, enjoying the sun on her face. Spock watched her from the corner of his eye. The look of pure ecstasy something as simple as the weather brought to her was fascinating. Her silky skin radiated from the heat, and the light glinted off her eyelashes and her hair. Spock found his inner commentary investigating the curve of her neck into her strong shoulders just as Airman Stearns pulled their hovercar to a stop outside of the Riverside shipyard. He caught himself and recovered before Nyota could open her eyes and discover his attention.

Stearns stood at attention as Spock and Uhura climbed out of the car. He was young and eager to impress, even Uhura. She outranked him through a technicality, so she was certain that was the only reason he saluted her curtly. The kid was only about nineteen, with a face halfway between childhood and manhood. _Enlisted right out of high school_, Nyota thought, as she surveyed him briefly. His brown hair looked curly under his cover, a little longer than regulation. He spared her a smile and a wink when he caught her looking at him, after Commander Spock had turned his back. She could not help the warmth the quirked the edges of her mouth upwards, but she quickly looked away and followed Spock through the gates of the shipyard.

The _U.S.S. Enterprise_ loomed above them, her silver hull gleamed in the morning sun. Most of the external components were in place, a far cry from the last time Uhura had seen it. A year ago, only half the panels had been installed, without any identifying marks. Now, the registry number NCC-1701 was visible. Uhura fell in stride with Spock, followed closely by Airman Stearns. They were greeted at the second security gate by the shipyard Commander. He was a burly man with the look of a person who had flown a desk for too long. Muscle had become fat, and the Riverside bar had contributed a few pounds. But he was a smiling, cheerful man, and he shook Nyota's hand vigorously when he met her. He greeted Spock cordially, though with less enthusiasm than he had Nyota. Without much preamble, he directed them to the lift that would take them up into the belly of the ship. It was a fast ride, but once on the lift door shut, the shipyard commander, Jenkins, launched into an introduction for Uhura.

"The _Enterprise_ is a jewel. She's a Constitution class, and she'll be the second-largest in the fleet. The most advanced technology is going into her. She'll be the fastest, best-equipped, and most efficient ship in the fleet. More focus has gone into developing a ship that can operate independently for a longer period of time. Our predictions for the _Enterprise_ are the she'll be able to go a minimum of two years without necessarily coming into a space dock for repairs or replenishment." The pride in his voice was obvious.

"That's quite impressive, Commander Jenkins, but what will that sort of long-term mission do to crew morale and psychological health? With that much recycling of materials, surely it will have some affect," Nyota said, turning fully towards Jenkins.

"My side is the engineering, ma'am," Jenkins replied with an ingratiating smile. "I am under the impression that Starfleet will be conducting psychological evaluations and running simulations to test personnel capabilities. Is that right, Commander Spock?"

Spock had remained silent up to this point except for greeting Commander Jenkins. "You are correct, Commander. The simulations are scheduled to begin in five months and three days."

"I haven't heard of any simulations," Nyota said, and Spock detected a slight hint of affront in her voice. He wondered what of the situation could have offended her, but dismissed it as she continued. "Who are they using?"

"I believe they will begin accepting applications in two weeks," Spock said matter-of-factly. "Why do you ask?"

"It's something I would be interested in doing," she stated simply, and returned her focus to Commander Jenkins. "How many decks are completed?"

"None are entirely finalized. We're finally to the point where we can bring consulting teams on-site to start solidifying plans. Engineering has obviously been given precedence, given the level of attention the warp core and auxiliary engines require. This deck and the one above are engineering, and they are the most complete. We expect finishing touches to be done in about a month, and of course continual tune-ups will be done until launch." Jenkins motioned for them to follow him. He had seen Spock's incredulous eyebrow arch up towards his hairline, and flinched internally. Deadlines had been their most contentious point in working together. Spock was notoriously unforgiving as each deadline slipped by.

"The decks above, 7, 8 and 9, are all science and communication-focused. Deck 9 is equipped with universal translator, sub-space frequency decoders, message encrypters…not to mention the immense library of languages and dialects that will be uploaded onto the servers' memory banks. 7 is a variety of science labs with different focuses-botany, anthropology and archeology, and biology…you name it, we got it," Jenkins said.

Their tour of the engineering decks left Uhura in awe of the thought and planning that had to go into the design and fitting of the engine room and its adjacent facilities. They continued onto deck 9, the communications center of the ship. She could not wipe the wide grin that came to her face as she surveyed the space. It was still a shell of what it would be when it was outfitted, but its consoles were in place, their displays missing the internal components. Nyota could already hear the rumble of a full communications staff, officers speaking half a dozen languages at a time, all garbled together in a symphony of beautiful diversity.

Spock's eyes were drawn to Uhura as she stepped forward, walking ahead of the group where they had paused. A wide smile had spread across her face, as though she had just walked into the most beautiful room in the world. He wondered what was going through her mind as she walked over to a station and began examining it with a look of childish joy. Her long fingers traced the outline of the control panel, its gaping maw a jumble of exposed wires. She leaned over it to examine the circuit board and all the complicated wiring that constituted a communications console.

"How far away are the consoles from being finalized?" she asked, turning quickly back to Jenkins. "I see they're still missing the main routers and major components of the decryption system."

"We're still two months out on finishing these. The only reason the circuit board is exposed right now is because they've just been installed. A crew will be coming through this afternoon to cover each station so the boards aren't exposed too long," Jenkins told her, smiling. "I take it communications is your track?"

"Yes, sir," Nyota said, reining herself in a little at the gentle reminder of separation in rank.

"The stations should have been covered after installation," Spock commented. "Why are you waiting until this afternoon?"  
Jenkins' smile decreased by a couple of watts. "The team was needed elsewhere. We had…a bit of an emergency on deck 6. One of the crew decided to test a decompression chamber before it was ready and it resulted in a small fire. The crew that had been working down here is now assessing the damage the fire did."

Spock simply nodded, and walked over by Uhura to investigate the circuits. He reached out to where her clever fingers were following leads up to the main circuit board, pointing to the link she was looking for. She smiled appreciatively at him, and continued her perusal. Spock turned back towards Jenkins. "Perhaps we should be moving on to the science decks. We would like to begin our work."

Jenkins nodded quickly, motioning for them to follow him back to the lift. They flew up several more decks and the doors opened to a semi-complete hallway. The science decks abandoned the open floor layout for an orderly, individualized layout. Each lab had its own space, with a room to scrub in and out for the appropriate labs. Nyota had looked through the specifications for each individual labs. Three of the fourteen labs were quarantine-capable. The other eleven could be locked down for general decontamination if necessary, but none of them would be dealing with infectious diseases or noxious pests. The entire deck could easily be quarantined as a whole if necessary. It was an impressive set-up.

The hallway panels were almost all in place. They were a pristine white. Several panels were missing or set to the side, revealing exposed wires. There was a crew in almost every lab, but their destination for the day was the biological sciences lab. The team in that particular lab was in the process of fitting consoles and workstations. As they walked in, the team leader greeted them cordially. He walked up to them, holding out his hand to Spock. The Vulcan simply looked at his hand with a raised eyebrow. The man stood confused for a moment, and Uhura intervened, stepping forward and grasping his hand.

"Cadet Uhura," she introduced herself. "Forgive Commander Spock, he doesn't shake hands. You're Lieutenant Johnson, right? I read through your designs, they're very good."

Commander Jenkins took his leave, indicating he would see them for lunch. Lt. Johnson lit up at her attention, and motioned for both to follow him as he launched into a complex explanation of his reasoning. "This will be the second-most advanced lab onboard. The only one that outdoes it is the biomedical sciences lab, and that's only because it may see infectious disease work. Everything in here is top of the line."

Johnson went on to elaborate what each station's function would be in the long run. Spock questioned and commented as appropriate, and Nyota listened intently. Biological sciences were not necessarily her thing, but she knew enough about each station to be interested. After the brief introduction, Spock stepped away to work on programming several consoles with information he had brought with them. Nyota lent her hands wherever she was needed, and the team members were more than happy to show her what they needed her to do. It was during one of these explanations that a fresh team member joined them. He had pulled out his tools and was underneath a console when Nyota heard him curse colorfully.

"What's wrong, ensign?" she asked, peering underneath the console from which his feet protruded.

"I don't seem to have the right size of ratchet, Miss," he replied, his voice muffled underneath the plastic and metal casing.

"Are you using metric or universal standard?" Uhura questioned, looking for his tool box.

"Metric," he replied, wriggling out from underneath the console. He dropped the ratchet with a sigh. "This is my first day working on the _Enterprise._"

"That's your problem. Metric works for Earth-built vessels, the ones that don't leave this star system, but all starships use universal standard." Nyota grabbed a ratchet out of another ensign's tool box and found the correct adapter. "That way, they can be repaired at any port." She lay down in the enisign's place and reached up to the bolt he had been attempting to loosen. In a few quick turns, she had it out and tossed it and the ratchet to him.

"An astute observation, Cadet," Spock said from his station nearby. He had apparently overheard their exchange, despite being engaged in the programming of one of the input consoles. Uhura glanced at him, and her eyes softened. She saw one raised eyebrow, and realized his concentration was split between her conversation with the ensign, and his own task. His attention caught her off guard, and she felt her cheeks and ears flushing.

"Yes, sir," Uhura replied. She turned her attention back to the young ensign. He was about her age, and he was tall and lanky. His dark hair was cropped close around his ears, and he had dark eyes. He smiled bashfully at her.

"Thanks, Miss," he said, and she caught the slightest Southern accent. "I guess I need to switch out my tools, then. I'm used to working on the puddle jumpers and light-duty ships."

"Uhura," she said. "You can call me Uhura. Don't worry about it, you'll get used to it."

"Nice to meet you, Uhura," he said. "I'm Ben." He held out his hand, and Uhura shook it, her smile widening.

"Good to know you, Ben." Uhura immediately warmed to the young man, and he happily chatted with her as they worked side by side the rest of the morning. The only thing that caused her to glance away from her work or the ensign was the Vulcan Commander repressing signs of divisiveness two stations away.

* * *

Spock felt strange as he watched the exchange. There was an impulse to step between them, to call Uhura to him. He felt his jaw tighten, and he sat up straighter. He tried to unite his full attention on the computer system in front of him. But then she would laugh at something the shy ensign would say, or lower her voice conspiratorially. He could still hear every word, and she knew that. Their conversation was innocent, split between the complexities of the computer program and their own lives. Spock was surprised with how open Uhura was being with her new acquaintance. She was not as candid normally. Few people could surprise Spock. He had added Uhura to the very short list not so long ago, when she had first begun her assistant duties, and had talked about falling in love with what the _Enterprise_ stood for.

_"It is illogical to love an inanimate object." Spock watched her as she turned the holographic image around._

_"It's not the Enterprise herself. It's what she stands for. A new day for space exploration, the ability to bring peace and aid to the furthest reaches of the galaxy. She's a platform for the best and brightest to expand beyond what we've ever accomplished before."_

_Spock studied her in his quiet way, his fingers steepled before his chin, his lips pursed slightly in thought. Finally, he spoke. "Fascinating. I have only heard one other person voice similar views of the potential the Enterprise has, and that person is to be her captain."_

_Her bright smile, the one that indicated her unadulterated pleasure, flashed wide across her face. Her eyes lit up, and he knew then that smile would be just for him._

The smile she gave the ensign was not the same as the smile she had for him. It was reserved, even if her words did not seem to be. Spock realized he was mentally berating himself for his illogical thoughts. He breathed deeply, trying to refocus. He caught Uhura looking over at him, curiosity evident in her deep brown eyes. He shifted again, leaning towards the computer console as though he were not trying to avoid paying attention to her.

The morning was difficult for him. It seemed to stretch on, even though each minute ticked away in the back of his mind. The surreptitious glances were trying, and avoiding getting caught was even harder. He tried to avoid catching Uhura's eye, but try as he might, it was statistically impossible to completely avoid doing so over the course of two and a half hours. Each time, he looked away feeling his ears heat. It was so embarrassingly…_human_.

The fourth time he caught Uhura's eye, he saw what he believed his mother referred to as an impish twinkle in her eye. Apparently she had perceived his discomfort, and was now intentionally antagonizing him. Two could play that game.

He was acutely aware when Uhura and 'Ben' switched stations. Ben was talkative, and Uhura kept up a constant chatter with him, while at the same time watching Spock. He decided he needed to speak with her about it at a later time. For the time being, however, he intentionally began catching her eye when lines of code allowed it. Much of his programming had been finished prior to installation, but the necessary background work had required his initial attention. Aside from that, his work only required frequent monitoring, something he could easily concentrate only a small fraction of his attention on. The rest went to Uhura and Ben. He watched every move, listened to every word spoken, and admired as Uhura's capable hands traced over the consoles.

Until his station chimed, and drew his attention back to it fully.

The chime brought Uhura to his side, and she placed one of those capable hands on the back of his chair. "What's wrong, Commander?" she asked, looking intently at the script running on the screen.

"What leads you to the conclusion that something is wrong, Cadet?" Spock was already scanning through the blue symbols on the screen. "All is in order; that was simply the computer confirming a successful transfer of data. Necessary scientific programming is now integrated into all computers on this deck."

Uhura nodded her head in appreciation, and stood straight again. She seemed abashed at assuming the chime had been the computer telling Spock he had made a mistake. He turned his head to look at her with an uplifted eyebrow. Uhura gave him a small grin, and leaned back over to study the start-up screen Spock had designed. She reached out a long finger to touch the screen, activating one of the menus. "It seems very simple to navigate," she commented, her eyes sliding over to look at him.

He was watching her hand, his attention rapt on the single digit she swept over the screen. He caught her look, and gave a small nod. "I intentionally designed it so that any member of Starfleet would be able to activate and navigate the programs easily. It also allows for information from one lab to be integrated immediately into the entire computer system, meaning that it can be accessed from any lab, as well as from any authorized area on the ship."

"Impressive, sir," Uhura said, her eyes bright with interest. She dropped her hand away from the screen to the keyboard, close to where Spock's own hand rested on the keyboard. She experimentally activated several command protocols, and Spock sat stiffly. He watched her hand as it tapped in its commands. He even watched it drift closer to his, and did nothing to stop the unintentional brush of her fingers against his own hand.

It was like static electricity had discharged between the two, and Uhura started, drawing in her breath sharply. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her subconscious explode into buzzing activity. As quickly as the sensation came upon her, it was gone, and Uhura's eyes flew open to find Spock's. His black eyes…no, _brown_, the darkest brown she had ever seen, were locked onto hers, his face an impassive mask. But his eyes were expressive as any man's. The only outward sign of discomfort was a slight green tinge of his ears, and his hands folded in his lap. She wanted to ask what the hell had just happened to her, but something made her bite her tongue. She straightened, eyed him one more time, and turned back to what she had been doing prior to their interaction.

When her hand brushed his, Spock had been stunned momentarily by the sheer vividness of Uhura's mind. Touching her consciousness was like diving into a Van Gogh, full of bright, intricate colors. No Vulcan mind held so much color, so many bright memories. Not even his mother's mind measured up to what he felt when he had touched Uhura's mind. It left him breathless, and he craved more.

Lunch came quickly after that, and the fitting team joined Uhura, Spock, and Jenkins for lunch in the local diner. A large table had been set up for them, and the food was a delicious change from the mess hall. Spock took the seat on Uhura's right, and he watched as her new friend Ben took the one to her left. Jenkins sat nearby, and immediately engaged Spock in conversation, leaving little attention for Nyota, and leaving a wide opening for Ben to engage her. Spock did not know why that bothered him, but he pushed the unwelcome emotion away, focusing on his meal and on his own conversation. But soon, Uhura and Ben's conversation grew to include the entire table, and Spock found himself pulled into it.

"It's completely possible that three, even a five year mission could be flown on the _Enterprise_, and future ships. Not only is it possible, it's necessary," Uhura was saying. Their conversation had gone from the merits of interspace trade regulation to the lengths of duty tours, to the potential for extremely long tours. Ben's current stance, as far as Spock could tell, was against tours of duty over the current eighteen months maximum.

"Tours that long will make a man go insane. Add on all the rules and regulations of Starfleet and you're asking for trouble in paradise," Ben replied, digging into his meal with relish. "Being locked in a flying box, no matter how advanced, will have a bad effect on the crew."

"From where are you drawing your conclusions, Ensign?" Spock found himself asking. It was a logical question, but Spock saw his shoulders tense.

"From stories of how badly some of my friends have come off, sir. They come off of those long missions changed. People just aren't meant to stay cooped up like that."

"Those would seem to be reliable resources," Spock said. "It is unavoidable that some changes may be seen, but you must also consider that eighteen months is a considerable amount of time to not see your friends. It is illogical to consider they would remain exactly the same as they had been."

Spock was unusually vocal, but seemed determined to argue with Ben. He was not normally so passive-aggressive. Uhura felt it had something to do with their brief exchange earlier. She wanted to ask him about, and had been suppressing the urge to do so since it had happened. She had not had the chance to corner him, and would not most likely for the rest of the day. But she listened to their debate tolerantly, chiming in here and there. It was illuminating.

Lunch concluded at 13:00 hours, and the group headed back to the _Enterprise_. They were in a different lab this time, with a different set of objectives. Instead of working alongside Ben or Spock, Uhura followed a different technician around. This one was female, so she was not on the receiving end of Spock's intense scrutiny. Lt. Laury was also a coy, witty woman, and Uhura was very quickly distracted from her own vendetta by her new friend's stories and fast humor. Spock was in and out of the lab, splitting his time between checking the computer systems and doing something else out in the hallway and other labs. The next three hours passed with very little interaction between her and Spock. She was acutely aware when he walked into the lab, though, and could not help but turn her head towards him for the brief moment it took to acknowledge his presence. He looked towards her whenever he entered the room, if only for a second.

That was all their afternoon seemed to consist of: side conversations, the sound of Uhura laughing at the exploits of Lt. Laury, and searching glances across the lab at the sound of the door sliding open.

When it was finally time to return to the Academy, Spock came and collected her. She exchanged contact information with the lovely Lt. Laury, and to Spock's chagrin, Ben, before they bid the fitting team goodbye. Commander Jenkins met them at the lift and accompanied them out to the security checkpoint, where their original chauffer stood waiting. He smiled at Uhura, his blue eyes twinkling in a familiar manner. Uhura returned his smile and accepted his help into the hovercar. Spock climbed gracefully in after her without a word.

The ride over was quiet, except for the small talk that passed between Uhura and Stearns. He was flirtatious, but apparently she had had enough of flirtatious, so the conversation quickly petered out. Spock found that fact relieved him. Uhura's eyes remained open on this journey, taking in the Iowa cornfields. He could read the tension in her shoulders, despite her efforts to appear casually interested in the passing scenery. Her fingers drummed against the side of the car, she fidgeted with the edge of her t-shirt. They were clear signs of nervousness in humans, and he had seen them often enough in his own mother.

Stearns dropped them at the landing pad, and bid them a good night. He turned to Uhura and added on a, "It was a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," and saluted them both. As he drove off, a second transporter showed up, and two officers disembarked. They saluted Spock and walked onto the awaiting clipper. Spock made to follow, but Uhura stepped in front of him with a fierce look. Spock looked down at her, an act made difficult by their proximity.

"What the hell happened? Sir." Uhura was the image of intense curiosity and confusion.

"To what are you referring, Cadet?" He managed to keep his voice even, and completely controlled.

"I felt you…in my mind? Right? Is that what I felt?"

The pilot chose that moment to come around from doing his external pre-flight check. He looked at them curiously, seemingly noting their closeness, and Uhura quickly took a step back. "We're ready to go sir, if you two are." The pilot brushed by them, hopping up the stairs to the cabin.

"Cadet, we should speak of this in a more private setting," Spock said. He motioned for her to precede him onto the transport, but she stood in front of him in the fading light, studying his face for any sign of a drop in his reticence. Finding none, she turned away from him and walked up the stairs. This time, Spock took the seat directly next to her, instead of leaving a seat between. They were a good distance from the other officers aboard the transport, and out of hearing range of the pilot. As the engines whirred to life, Spock leaned to speak lowly in her ear. "I apologize for any discomfort I have caused you, but this is a matter I would not speak openly about."

"Well, now is as good a time as any." Uhura motioned to both officers who were plugged in to their PADDS, headphones cutting out any form of noise. The pilot had shut the cabin door for the journey. "We're as alone as we're going to get today."

Spock repressed a sigh. "As you wish, Cadet." He checked over his shoulder again, looking at the two officers. They never even glanced up. "What we appear to have experienced today was the precursor to a Vulcan mind meld. You brushed my hand and I was unprepared for it. That was why you felt me invade your mind. For that I am infinitely sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" she asked, her eyes innocent and curious. "It was unexpected but…you didn't hurt me."

"You misunderstand. The invasion of your mind without your permission is a most heinous crime on Vulcan and is punished to the highest extent. If malicious, such an invasion can cause severe, even irreversible, damage. It was not my intention, but as I was unprepared, I did not successfully withdraw myself from making mental contact with you." Spock's voice was still low, but she could have sworn it shook a little as he spoke.

"I don't really see why such a small contact would cause you to be so contrite. Like I said, you didn't hurt me. In fact, I'm intrigued. Your mind is so…active, and organized. I didn't realize that I would pick up anything from a touch telepath. I always thought it was a one-way exchange, except for Vulcans." Spock listened to her speak with excitement, her eyes lighting up as they always did when presented with a new conundrum. She had no idea as to the gravity of what he had allowed to happen.

"Uhura," he said quietly, plaintively. "The act I speak of is _kae'at knal'lur,_ mind-eavesdropping. It is a precursor to _kae-at k'lasa_." He paused as he let this sink in for her, and realization, followed by horror, crossed her face. He saw her tamp down the horror as quickly as it came across her face.

"But, that's not what it was," she said quietly, seriously. She held his eye contact, her gaze reassuring. "You didn't force anything on me. It only lasted a second."

"You seem recovered. I feared that, given recent events, you would be more concerned for you safety."

The confusion was ill-disguised. Uhura shook her head, determined not to make him feel guilty for anything. If he could feel guilty, that is. "It's not the same thing. It was unintentional, and it was my fault as much as yours. More my fault, really, since I was invading your personal space. I should have known better."

"That is an illogical statement, as we have often worked in such close confines at the long-range sensor lab. You hold none of the blame, but rest assured, it will not happen again."

Nyota could tell the conversation was over, so she turned her attention to her PADD, pulling up a book to take her mind off everything. The remaining hour of the trip passed in complete silence.

When they landed on Academy grounds, Nyota stood with Spock and they followed the two officers off the transport. They both automatically turned north toward the student dorms, Spock voicing his intention of escorting her safely across the darkened campus. They walked in silence again, unspoken words hanging awkwardly between them. It was a fast walk, but it seemed to stretch on to infinity without any conversation. When they arrived on the step of the dormitory, Nyota turned to Spock, fixing him in a serious gaze.

"Sir, please. I don't want our…encounter…to interfere with our professional relationship. I will keep your confidence." She took a step closer to Spock, and he struggled to keep his breath at an even tempo. "However, I would…not find it unacceptable to experience it again. So, if it makes any difference, you have my permission."

It was tempting, so very tempting. And yet, Spock was still Vulcan, and still in control of his emotions. "It would be illogical and ill-advised to do so, Cadet. However, I will keep it in consideration should the need arise."

Nyota shrugged off the disappointment that ran through her, dropping his gaze. "Understood, Commander. Thank you for escorting me."

"No thanks is necessary, Cadet. Have an easy rest." Spock waited until she walked into the building, and headed to his own domicile.

The strange emptiness that filled his head seemed to expand into his apartment when he walked in. He dropped his bag by the door and slid off his boots. He showered, standing beneath the burning water longer than necessary, and sat glaring at his _asenoi_ uselessly. His bed was equally uninviting. He lay awake for hours, before finally finding an hour of respite, with the colors of Uhura's mind filling his dreams.

* * *

Translations:

Ha-ge- lights

_kae'at knal'lur,- mind eaves-dropping_

_kae-al k'lasa- mind-rape_


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: An awesome thing was brought to my attention by a wonderful reviewer. Apparently, I have made Tumblr! This is kind of awesome, because when I first published Tumblr didn't exist, so I didn't realize it was another outlet. If anyone else has found my story this way, please let me know, because I would be interested in seeing how much traffic this story gets because of this wonderful site.

Chapter 6-

Nyota had tossed and turned fitfully all night, finally sitting up around 05:00 and grabbing her PADD to read. Sunday was the only day she had no official duties, and she normally slept in as late as she could. It was a futile battle, though, because her emotions were in turmoil. There was a bitter tint to them, as though the silent walk across campus and Spock's curt words had struck a dissonant chord. It left her unsettled, and as hard as she tried to push away her hurt thoughts, they buzzed in her head insistently. Distraction was to be her only solace.

Even reading provided no respite from her irritated thoughts. The first literature that pulled up was Vulcan, a post-Awakening treatise on first-contact communication. It infuriated her, so she exchanged it for a Xindi dialects guide. Failing to find relief in that, she finally switched to a piece of fiction, F. Scott Fiztgerald's _The Great Gatsby_. Fitzgerald's genius was never lost on her. It remained an immaculate piece of Earth's history, the spirit of the raging '20s captured in literature, as stirring as it was tragic. Soon enough, she was lost in the novel. She had first read _The Great Gatsby_ in high school, and Gatsby had been her secret flame. She would never admit out loud that she had idolized the enigmatic playboy. As a teenager much of the context had been lost on her, but now, reading it as a young adult, the intricacies of the plot and Gatsby's less-than-spotless past held more context. The tragedy, more than the glamor, held her attention and tugged at her heartstrings.

This is how Gaila found her when she tried to creep back into their dorm at 08:00. Realizing her roommate was awake, Gaila dropped any pretext and tossed her heels to the floor. They clattered loudly on the laminate floor. "Morning, roomie," she said, belly-flopping on her bed. "How were the cornfields?"

Nyota set aside her PADD with a sigh, sitting up to face her friend. "The _Enterprise_ was fabulous. Gaila, it's the best of everything. Just spending a day in those labs almost made me want to switch to the science track," she said. "But…something weird happened."

This got Gaila's attention. The Orion woman had thought she had smelt pheromones when she walked in the door, but it was such a faint scent she had ignored it. She fixed Nyota with an intense gaze. "What happened?"

Nyota bit her lip, suddenly very ashamed she had said anything. It had been eating at her all night, though, so it had to come out eventually. Nyota just was not sure Gaila was the person to whom it needed to come out. _Too late_, she thought. "I kind of…touched Commander Spock's hand. I didn't do it on purpose, but, he didn't exactly move his when he saw contact was imminent."

Gaila quirked an eyebrow, her alcohol-reddened eyes brightening suddenly at this new information. "Set-up or accidental?"

"Purely accidental. I invaded his personal space, leaning over his console to see his programming, and I wasn't paying attention to where my hands were…"Nyota shrugged, lifting her hands in a motion of surrender.

Gaila bounced, giggling a bit. She quickly stopped, her brain beating a pounding staccato with every heartbeat. "What was it like?"

"It was kind of like…touching a door knob after walking across carpet in fuzzy socks. It was a shock, but followed by what felt like a tornado of thoughts. It happened so fast I couldn't sort through any of it. He processes so many things at once…I felt like my head was going to explode." Nyota could not stop the flow of thoughts that ran through her mind and straight to her mouth. Before she knew it, she had confessed everything to her green friend, including the Spock's apparent rejection on the dormitory steps. "And he just…walked away. He didn't even look back. I'm…I'm scared I may have broken something that can't be fixed."

Gaila heard the intense disappointment in Nyota's voice, saw it on her face, and her heart ached for the sad woman. "Ny, if he doesn't take advantage of the permission you've given him, he doesn't deserve you as a friend, or anything else. Don't let it bother you. Besides, the 'accidental' hand brush obviously wasn't your fault. He didn't move his hand, and you know how protective he is about his damn personal space."

Nyota shook her head, the discontent sitting in her chest heavily. "But what if he saw something he didn't like? What if, by my slip-up, I've lost a friendship?"

"Then it's a friendship he doesn't deserve, if such a small infraction could drive him away." Gaila's tone left no room for debate, placing finality as certain as a VOID stamp on an envelope. "Now get your pretty ass into some civvies and I'll take you to breakfast."

Nyota acquiesced, pulling herself out of bed and stripping off her sleeping clothes. She grabbed dark blue jeans and a teal crewneck t-shirt with the Starfleet emblem on the hem. It was a soft jersey-t, and her favorite. Her brother, Brian, had sent it to her when he found out she had applied to Starfleet Academy. "You'll need it, little sister, when you get to San Francisco. You won't get out of uniform very often so you might as well represent when you do," he had said. He was right. Her uniform was very rarely discarded, and nearly every civilian casual outfit was branded by Starfleet.

She donned her normal boots, zipping them up. Gaila surveyed her appreciatively, nodding her approval. She had changed out of her clubbing clothes into civvies as well, a surprisingly conservative outfit. Nyota said as much, and Gaila snorted a laugh. "Girl's gotta take a break from being fabulous sometime."

They walked off campus to a café a mile away. It was their favorite place to grab Sunday brunch because it offered a wide variety of Terran and galactic cuisine, appealing to both their palettes. It was a popular place, but was intimate enough that a private conversation could be had easily. They quickly found a seat at a corner table, placed their orders with the waitress who knew them by name, and turned back to their conversation. Gaila had been telling Nyota about the night before, and due to her theatrical nature, was just getting to the good part. She had yet to reveal the identity of the man she had gone home from _Shallow End_ with, but Nyota had a sinking feeling she knew who it was.

"Oh my gosh, Nyota, his _hands_ are so amazing! I didn't know callouses could feel so good. And don't even get me started on his tongue. I'm surprised he's not in the communications track, that's how talented it is," the Orion purred, her eyes fluttering at the mere memory. "He spoke three languages to me, all in the middle of…well, you know. He knows how to charm an Orion girl. How do you not like him?"

"Considering you have yet to tell me his name, I couldn't tell you," Nyota said, sipping her coffee. It was black and had a wonderful aroma that only fresh beans gave, and it made her feel slightly better than she had.

"Oh, oops. Jim, Jim Kirk," her roommate said. Gaila's eyes were bright as she said his name. "But seriously, how do you not like him?"

Nyota rolled her eyes. "As long as he's not flirting with me he's tolerable, but when is that? He's a misogynist, with absolutely no respect for women. Anything that even _looks_ feminine is a target for him."

"He has a few rough edges," Gaila admitted, "But I don't think you've spent enough time around him to really know him."

"Gaila, you've spent the night with him once. We've hung out with him and his…" Nyota searched for a creative way to describe McCoy. "His pet sidekick, what, four times since starting the Academy? That hardly constitutes an actual relationship. Plus, I have PT with him, and that's more than enough time around Kirk for me."

"He's really sweet on his own," Gaila replied, her body language pleading with Nyota to be fair. "I think his bravado is really just a show for the benefit of others. I like him."

"He's male, of course you like him," Nyota teased. Their food arrived, and they dug in, still arguing.

"I don't like McCoy," Gaila shot back, waving her fork at Nyota. "He's too rough. And crude. And downright rude. No, he'd be attractive if he weren't so angry all the time."

"Anger is how he copes with the world." Nyota was fond of Leonard. He had always been kind to her, in his own way, and his care for her during her latest visit to the hospital had earned him a permanent place in her heart. "He's really just a big teddy bear, and he doesn't want anybody to figure it out. Plus, his daughter is just about the sweetest thing you can imagine."

"There's that, too. Ugh, children." Gaila shuddered artistically. "No, thank you."

"Why would it matter to you, Gaila? All you do are one-nighters anyway." Nyota's voice was light and teasing, and Gaila laughed, nodding.

"You never know, though. Someday I might settle down, but I definitely don't want a premade family. I don't want kids at all, to tell you the truth." Gaila had wolfed down her food at a surprising speed, and Nyota glanced at her own plate, still half-full.

"Starfleet makes that a little challenging," Nyota said, chewing her pancake thoughtfully. She had never given much thought to having children, or even getting married. She had had a serious boyfriend in college who had gotten too serious, so she had dumped him faster than yesterday's trash. He had taken it fairly hard, to the point she had taken out a restraining order on him. He just did not understand why Starfleet would take priority to settling down. He had even picked out a wedding dress for Nyota. Since then, Nyota had avoided relationships altogether, outside of the occasional friendly date.

"There are plenty planet-side careers available," Gaila shot back. "Just look at your Commander. He's young and planet-side."

"He's not _my_ Commander," Nyota said absently. "Besides, the only reason he's teaching is because they placed his captain planet-side during construction of the _Enterprise_. Family doesn't really seem like it's his thing."

"Captain Pike, right? That's who's slated to command the _Enterprise_?" Gaila asked, feigning interest. Command structure was only somewhat interesting to her, since she had no aspirations to the command track. Who commanded her ship made no difference to her.

"Yeah. He's going to be an amazing person to serve under, if I ever get the chance." Nyota was starting to sink back into the depression earlier that morning. She was incredulous. "I may have lost that, too, come to think of it."

"What do you mean?" Gaila was genuinely confused over their conversation now. It had shifted too quickly for her, Nyota falling back into her funk.

"Commander Spock makes, or at least approves, all the appointments to the ship. Captain Pike has the final say, but without a recommendation from Commander Spock, who knows what will happen? I want to be aboard the _Enterprise_, more than anything. And if the Commander decides he doesn't want me there, there's absolutely nothing I can do." Nyota did not think that Spock would keep her off the ship just because of a petty misunderstanding, but her more emotional, less logical side was terrified that it was a very real possibility.

Gaila waved aside Nyota's concern. "That statement is entirely unfounded. You're impressive enough on your own, you don't need somebody else's recommendation. Besides, remember how Spock acted when you were hurt the other day? You said he practically broke down the door to proclaim his undying friendship. I highly doubt a little mind-meld would chase him away. Hell, it wasn't even a full mind-meld."

Nyota stared at her nearly empty plate, deciding she had had enough.

"Let's go back to campus, Gaila. I have a tutoring session I have to get ready for." The two women paid their check and left their little café. Fall in San Francisco was warm and sunny, with cooler nights. This morning was no different. Many people were out enjoying the last day of the weekend, walking the pretty streets or lounging in the many parks that had replaced the innumerous buildings that had once lined the streets before expansion off-planet had occurred. Nyota felt a stirring of longing, wishing she could spare another hour to lie out on the green lawns of the open spaces.

* * *

Spock had not slept most of the night, except for an hour before dawn. Upon waking, his mind was still filled with the beautiful colors and images from Nyota's mind. His perfect recall, and a miniscule amount of human curiosity, cursed him with the inability to banish the wonderful images that pervaded every corner of his brain. Deep purples, teal, green and blue mashed together with browns, whites, and reds to form the images that formed Nyota's thoughts. They had a nonsensical quality to them, having been attained through the briefest of contacts. But he held them, afraid that if he rose from his bed and went on with the day's callings, they would be lost.

After fifteen minutes of lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, he could no longer justify his inactivity. With as much reluctance as a Vulcan can exhibit, he rose and dressed. For no particular reason, he put on his civilian clothing, despite his intention of walking to his lab. He was certain someone would find it unusual, were he to encounter someone. Being a Sunday, it was unlikely he would come across anyone. It was his custom, however, to always dress in uniform when on campus. Spock found he was unconcerned.

His morning lacked its usual vigor and focus. There was little that could hold his attention. A message beeped through on his com, and he activated it to see his mother's face. She smiled broadly at him.

_"Spohk."_

_"Mother. You look well."_

Amanda smiled more at that, genuinely pleased with his compliment. _"Your mother is old, Spock. Flattery is unnecessary,"_ she teased. She went on to ask about him, about his teaching, and about the trip to the _Enterprise_. When Saturday's journey came up, Spock hesitated. His pause was noticeable, as was the slight discomfort his eyes and the corners of his mouth betrayed. Amanda inquired gently, only to be stone-walled by her only child. She was thwarted again as she asked after his pretty teaching assistant. Spock changed the subject, and their conversation ended after another 10.43 minutes. His father once again made no appearance.

He found himself walking across campus soon after, unable to remain in the confines of his apartment any longer. He was restive, and what work he could do at home was undesirable. The morning was warm and fresh, unusual for this time of year. It was still cool for him, but he could expect little else from San Francisco. Even its hottest day was degrees cooler than a Vulcan winter. Spock busied himself as he walked, flipping through his PADD. There were a few students lying out on the sweeping lawns that stretched between the majestic Academy buildings. Spock took little notice of them, as usual. He would have continued to do so, if he hadn't heard a surprised, "Commander Spock!" He looked towards the voice, recognizing it immediately.

"Cadet Uhura." He spotted her, lying on her stomach in the grass. She appeared to be studying, her PADD propped up on a sweatshirt. She smiled, an uncertain, uncomfortable smile that he had never seen directed towards him. It disturbed him that it was, especially after touching her mind so briefly. Surely she had seen his regard for her in his own mind?

"How are you, Commander Spock?" Uhura was still looking up at him from her position on the ground. It seemed a very long way down to where she laid, her hair falling loose around her teal-clad shoulders. She had an expectant look and a timid, hopeful smile.

"I am well, Cadet, though my rest was quite uneasy," he admitted, surprising himself.

Spock's answer caught her off guard. This was their traditional greeting, but he was usually succinct and close-lipped. Looking down at her, he seemed immensely taller. He stood there, smug-looking in his dark jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt, staring down at her. His hands were clasped behind his back, as though he were in his officer greys and not civilian clothes. He was handsome, if austere. Six weeks as his TA, and his gaze still gave her butterflies, made all the worse by the events of the previous day. She tamped down the feeling, meeting his gaze evenly.

"What could possibly disturb the rest of a Vulcan?" she asked him, sitting up on the grass.

"Many things. Perhaps they might become one of the topics of discussion during one of our breaks," Spock replied. Nyota realized he was being intentionally elusive. She could almost see the corners of his mouth turn up. He was teasing her. It was a breadcrumb.

"So we take breaks, now?" she replied, quirking her eyebrow at him.

"Studies have shown productivity to reach its maximal level if appropriate rest is allowed. It would be ill-advised for us to do otherwise. Perhaps you are in need of one now?" Spock waited for her reply, seeing humor and eagerness joined on Uhura's face.

"I believe you are correct, sir. May I be of assistance to you? Your course suggests you are on your way to your lab." Nyota rose, pulling her PADD and sweater into her arms. Spock turned, and she fell in stride with him.

"Astute observation, Cadet. I have several tasks to accomplish before classes tomorrow, and I find myself to be quite unproductive in my apartment."

"What sort of tasks, if you don't mind me asking?" Spock always walked quickly, and Nyota had to double-time it to keep up with his long strides. He saw her struggling, and slowed to accommodate her.

"I do not mind. It is general preparation for the week. I must also submit my report on yesterday's inspection."

"Did you like what you saw?" Nyota asked, calling up the designs again on her PADD. They were nearing the science building, and Spock's lab.

"I found it favorable. There a few minor details that must be addressed, but none that will significantly slow the remainder of the fitting." They were still behind schedule, but everything was progressing as efficiently as it could. Suggestions had been made about regaining ground so the _Enterprise _could launch on the designated date for its shake-down cruise. "Should you wish to accompany me again, I would welcome your input. You were of great assistance yesterday."

"Thank you, sir." Uhura felt her confusion settle, and the comfort and ease of their friendship return.

"It is Sunday, Cadet, and you and I are off duty. I would consider it acceptable to our position and our association should you desire to abandon formality. You may call me Spock."

"Very well. Don't call me 'Cadet,' then." The doors to the science building _whooshed_ open. The building was completely deserted, save a single security officer. He greeted them with a nod, and turned back to his station. Nyota heard a soccer game's progress that had his attention.

They reached Spock's lab, and Spock commanded the lights to 80% power. He walked over to a replicator in the wall and ordered two steaming mugs of water. He had a stash of tea he kept nearby, and selected two tea bags to steep. Instead of starting work immediately, he pulled two chairs next to an empty table, motioning Nyota into one. He placed the tea and a jar of honey in front of her, and took the seat opposite.

"Real tea," Nyota sighed, inhaling deeply. "You can't beat it."

"I fail to understand you, Uhura. Why would you take offensive action against tea?"

Nyota laughed at him. "I mean nothing measures up to real tea. It's another euphemism."

Spock nodded. "It seems despite my time spent in the company of humans, I will never fully grasp your vernacular."

"You should spend more time with Dr. McCoy," Nyota commented, taking another sip of her tea. "Half his vocabulary is metaphor, the other half medical jargon."

"I doubt very much Dr. McCoy and I would be good companions. He seemed distressed by my presence both on the evening of your attack and the morning after, when I dropped off your uniform. He does not seem to 'like' me, as you might say." Spock had nearly finished his tea, but was reluctant to begin his work. "He seemed to treat you with some deference."

Nyota rolled her eyes. "There's nothing there, if that's what you're getting at. He's a friend, nothing more. He's a good person to have drinks with on a Friday while Gaila and his roommate are off doing their own thing."

"A person of the medical profession is most logical to include in such pursuits."

"He's handy," she admitted. Her tea was gone, but she did not want Spock to go to work. "He's gotten Kirk out of more than one tight spot, and he always looks out for me and the other women in the group. You could say he's like an overprotective big brother."

Spock stayed silent for several moments, turning his mug in his hands. It had gone ice-cold. He set it aside and took Nyota's from her hands. "That is an interesting description, since you bear no family resemblance."

"There is more to family than appearance, Spock," she said, rising to grab her PADD. "I thought that would be something you would know about, having served on a star ship before."

"I must admit to having difficulty in developing relationships in my previous postings. I made many acquaintances, but I doubt any of them would consider me family. Captain Pike may be the one exception. He and I have developed a very close working relationship, and have spent leisure time together on numerous occasions." Well, more like Chris had forced him to come to the officer's club for drinks on numerous occasions, or to bars when his travels happened to bring him by the Academy's grounds.

"I've been meaning to ask you about that. Why did you choose an Academy posting instead of a short-term post on a starship while the _Enterprise_ has been under construction? Didn't you get offers?" Nyota had taken her seat again, and was flipping through her study material. Spock took her distraction as an opportunity to study her, as he often had.

"I received twelve different offers, and all would have been choice placements. However, I wished to act as Captain Pike's liaison while the ship was under construction, and had no desire to serve under another commanding officer." An appropriate, to-the-point answer, and one he was certain she knew.

"That's all?" Nyota asked, feigning mild disinterest. "I would have thought such a long-term posting involved…other pursuits."

Spock knew what pursuits she was talking about. He considered his answer for several moments before speaking deliberately. "To what pursuits do you refer, Uhura?"

Nyota pursed her lips into a thin smile, not looking up from her PADD. "Pursuits of a…romantic nature. Only a woman keeps a man Earthbound for so long."

Spock turned to his console, focusing on the keystrokes. He had not expected her to be quite so blunt, but he should have. He had known her for too long to expect anything but frankness. "Do you know how long we have known one-another?"

"About two years, I think," Nyota replied, looking up at him with confusion. He was not looking at her any more, focused fully on whatever task he had begun. He was difficult to read.

"Two years, twenty-two days, eleven hours, and 18 minutes. In that time, I have been back on a starship on two separate, three-month missions, so your assertion that I have remained Earthbound is somewhat inaccurate." He made eye contact with her briefly as he spoke his last words.

"You have an incredibly good memory," Nyota commented dryly. "But then, that recruiting trip was a long time ago for me. But you said somewhat. What do you mean?"

"You once spoke of love at first sight when it came to the _Enterprise_. I believe I understand what you felt when you first saw her. She is the only lady that has kept me earthbound. Her, and my loyalty to her captain." Spock had turned back to his console, and was typing away casually, as though admitting to his attachment to the flagship and the commanding officer was the most normal thing a Vulcan could do. Though he had said it very matter-of-factly, and without any emotional inflection, it was the closest thing to emotion Nyota had seen him express. She smiled, and let the silence stand between them. She knew in that comfortable silence that everything was alright.

* * *

Two and a half hours later, Spock wrapped up his work, and Nyota looked up at him from the more comfortable position she had taken up on the floor. Their unique lack of professionalism would have gotten them both written up if someone had walked in on them, but it did not concern him. She had moved to the floor an hour previous, still creating tutoring plans and studying her own material. Little conversation had passed once they both began their own tasks.

"Done?" Nyota asked, knowing it was a frivolous question.

"I have completed the tasks I set for myself today," Spock replied, gathering up the set of PADDs he had pulled out. He reorganized them, backed up the information, and returned them to their slots above the consoles. "How are your studies progressing?"

"I'm far enough, for now. I already sent you my tutoring plans and the schedule for next week." She sat up and stretched her arms above her head, then cracked her neck. Her chosen position had left her somewhat sore, but her ribs were the worst where they were still bruised.

"Very well," Spock said. He could always look over them later. "I will attend your next tutoring session, and if you desire to have them in the evening I believe it would be wise for me to escort you to your dormitory afterwards."

"I won't argue that point. I don't really want to be by myself at night anymore."

"It would be unwise. I had thought speaking of the incident several nights ago would be undesirable, but I feel that you must know something about the perpetrator. I touched his mind briefly, and everything there was malicious. He is connected, as well, so I fear your troubles may not be over. I apologize for not informing you sooner, but I had thought it unnecessary." Spock sat down cross-legged in front of her. "You have the right to know."

Nyota mirrored his posture, sitting erect. She was unhappy with where this was going.

"I advised the arresting officer of my discovery, but he dismissed my concern. Even from my brief contact with him I was able to discern a malevolent intent towards your person. There may be nothing behind it, but I would prefer to be cautious. I ask that you always walk with someone when you desire to go somewhere. If one of your friends is unavailable, you may call me and I will be at your disposal." Spock held her gaze evenly, searching her face for the reaction he knew was coming. As he expected, her expression shut down.

"I don't think that's necessary, Commander. As you saw, I can take care of myself. I welcome your escort at night, but I doubt I'll need baby-sitting during the day." She went to rise, but Spock reached out, grasping her bare arm gently, stopping her ascent. Nyota stared at the hand, shocked. A soft buzz filled her head, more gently than it had been the previous day.

"Please, Uhura," he said, removing his hand. She met his eyes again, but hers were slightly glazed. He was very concerned he had overstepped his bounds, but she focused intently and the glazed look vanished. "Please," he said again.

"Show me," she replied. Her body language had changed, and she leaned towards him. "Show me, and I'll listen."

Spock had no sense of hesitation. He nodded, and reached up to her psi points. He had been anticipating the request, and could not deny his own desire for it, despite the darkness he was about to show her. Before making the contact, he held her eyes. "I will start slowly, so as not to overwhelm you."

She nodded, her expression serious. He made the contact, laying his fingers gently against her forehead, temple, and jaw, and he whispered the words, "My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts."

Nyota was immersed in Spock's mind, and it was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was a deep pool, and she felt as though she was swimming in it. Everything was blue and white and clean, organized, beautiful. She heard Spock speaking to her, and his voice seemed to echo through itself and surround her. Then, she saw him, or rather, his own memory of himself, only an hour before. She saw herself through his eyes, laying on the floor, looking in his direction as he spoke. Their words were a lower volume than a real conversation. "Present" Spock materialized next to her.

"Uhura, I have given you a brief demonstration of how a mind meld feels," he said. "I must warn you that the images I am about to show you are much more graphic."

Nyota nodded, and the image dissolved, then reconfigured around them. It was Spock's perspective of the attack. He had not seen much of it, and what little he saw dissolved when he touched the skin of the perpetrator. Nyota was surrounded by darkness and a sullen rage overwhelmed her, fueled by alcohol and adrenaline. There was dark intent, all focused at her. The man had focused all his energy on her as he struggled against Spock. The cruel thoughts directed towards her caused her to shrink back into herself, but she felt Spock wrap his presence around her like a safety blanket, and everything went black.

* * *

Thanks so much for reading!


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